


Aces

by PilDoor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Porn, Asexual Character, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Grad Student Castiel, Grad Student Dean, M/M, Or Gray, Porn Star Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-09-30 16:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10167506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilDoor/pseuds/PilDoor
Summary: The first time he comes into the shop Dean is pretty sure he is a hallucination brought on by his dry spell and accompanying month-long porn fest. He has seen this guy’s whole profile. He’s seen the whole profile so maybe his brain automatically imagines his face on every dark-haired guy he sees now.Or in which Dean's newest patron also happens to be his favorite porn star, and how is going to get through grad school when all his blood has headed down south?





	1. Jimmy Novak

The first time he comes into the shop Dean is pretty sure he is a hallucination brought on by his dry spell and accompanying month-long porn fest. He has seen this guy’s whole profile. He’s seen the whole profile so maybe his brain automatically imagines his face on every dark-haired guy he sees now. Why is he likes this?

As the guy makes his way up to the counter, Dean realizes it’s not a hallucination. Or if it is he’s having a psychotic episode, because this guy still looks like that. Or his features are the same, but there’s been no hair and makeup department getting him ready and, oh yeah, he’s also fully clothed. But Dean is certain. In front of him is Jimmy Novak, king of double penetration and bondage.

Dean is still panicking when the guy stops in front of him at the counter. Dean should have run away to hide in the staff restroom and let Charlie deal with him. She probably doesn’t watch porn with men in it. He rolls his shoulders and smiles his service-smile, telling himself _please don’t say anything about porn! He’s just a normal costumer_.

“Hello, welcome to Coffee and Eat. What can I do you for today –uh, what can I do for you today?” his face heats up and he knows the blush is spreading to the tips of his ears and under his shirt with the name tag pinned on his chest. Sweat trails down his back. Other than that, he pretends like that didn’t just happen.

Jimmy seems to have the same idea, his expression unchanged as he squints at the blackboard behind Dean that presents the café’s menu. 

“A cappuccino, please, with a pump of vanilla,” he doesn’t look at Dean, he bends down to look at the pastries behind the glass, “And a cherry strudel.”

Dean grabs a cardboard cup and writes the coffee order on it, checking the box for vanilla syrup, “Is that to go?”

“Please,” the guy is fumbling with his wallet now and Dean inwardly groans as he realizes his favorite porn star is actually the type to pay $8.49 in change.

Dean probably miscounts the change because it’s always a little uncomfortable counting a bunch of change when someone is standing right there, and it’s even harder when it’s a guy you’ve seen naked with two cocks in his ass, standing _right there_. Jimmy steps to the side to hang out around the pick-up area and Dean lets Charlie take the next customer’s order while he goes to make the cappuccino. 

He takes the strudel from the microwave and slides it into a to-go bag, then pops a lid on Jimmy’s cup before setting it on the counter, “Cappuccino and strudel for Jimmy,” he says without thinking and Jimmy doesn’t react for two seconds but seeing as there are barely any other customers waiting to pick up orders, he lifts his head from the newspaper it had been in, confused expression on his face.

It isn’t until the frown on his face deepens that Dean realizes his mistake.

He takes the stuff from Dean’s hands and Dean just stares at him. Jimmy isn’t his real name. People don’t use their real names in porn. He gulps when Jimmy’s fingers brush against his own and then almost passes out when he says, voice low and rumbly, “Always nice to meet a fan.”

 

“Oh god,” Dean grips the counter. There are no customers needing service right now, so he doesn’t have to postpone the freak-out.

“What’s that?” Charlie says over her shoulder. She’s making hot chocolate for herself because she’s got questionably morals. Dean pushes the half-eaten muffin he’d stolen earlier into the trash. It’s dry now anyway, and Dean also thinks he might never be able to eat anything ever again.

“That was Jimmy Novak, oh dear god,” he hides his face in his hands.

Charlie leans on the counter across from him, sipping hot chocolate, “He your ex-boyfriend or something?”

Dean looks up, “What, no! He’s a _porn star_! And I called him by his porn name! To his face! _Fuck_!”

Charlie grins at his antics, “Gay porn?”

“Mostly,” Dean says before squinting at her, “How’s that relevant?” 

She just shrugs, “Was he angry? That you used his porn name?”

“No, I don’t know,” he steals a new muffin because he's decided the only logical way to deal with this situation is comfort eating after all. And cancelling his subscription to the porn site Jimmy works for.

 

When he goes home that night he jerks off to one last video of his customer, telling himself that he’ll cancel it after.

He ‘forgets’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave me comments (and kudos) I live off of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel are properly introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are a lot of mistakes in this, I was watching RuPaul's Drag Race while editing. 
> 
> And thanks for the feedback on first chapter! It means a lot :D

The next time they meet each other Dean knows he’s not hallucinating but he kind of wishes he were.

He’s in the cafeteria, the big one on campus, slamming the buttons on the coffee machine. He hates the thing.

“Fucking work, you stupid high-tech, touch screen piece of _shit_ ,” he growls between his teeth, tapping the screen aggressively with his index finger. He’s about to use his fist when someone clears their throat next to him, making Dean take a step back and there’s fucking Jimmy Novak, own empty cardboard cup in hand, quickly pressing the ‘filter coffee’ button, then the one labeled ‘medium’. Brown liquid steams into Dean’s cup under the tap. 

Dean still wouldn’t know how to operate the machine as he didn’t see any of the tapping. He was busy staring at the side of Jimmy’s face. 

The last time he saw it was last night, in bird’s eye and on his laptop screen, the volume low even though he was wearing headphones. Somehow he is even more gorgeous in real life.

He turns to smile at him, “I’d imagine _you’d_ know how to operate a coffee machine.”

And shit, Dean hadn’t even had time to hope that Jimmy hadn’t remembered him. He tries an awkward smile and rubs his neck, “Hah, yeah.” Clever, Winchester.

Jimmy just keeps smiling (it’s gummy and Dean thinks he’s melting), and since Dean is apparently a complete moron, Jimmy finally takes the finished coffee and hands it to Dean so he can get his own coffee.

Dean stands there for a second, coffee burning his hand through the sleeveless cardboard cup.

“Do you go to this school?” That’s nice, Dean, that’s real nice. Fucking creep.

Jimmy takes his own finished shitty, powdered milk-cappuccino and looks up at Dean while he takes the first sip. He winces when he burns his tongue and Dean unconsciously registers what a dorky move that was from someone so hot.

“I do. I’m a grad student. Microbiology.”

And Dean’s brain is currently blowing a fuse but he knows that that’s in the med department.

“Really? Me too, or I mean… I’m doing biochemistry and molecular biology.” He wonders why he hasn’t seen him before (outside of porn that is – in a shared class or something. They would have to have taken some BA creds together, right?). He then briefly wonders how old Jimmy is. Then he tries to act like a normal human being, “I never saw you in undergrad?”

What stupid fucking thing to say and Dean has to deal with the consequences when Jimmy lifts a corner of his mouth in the tiniest smirk that has Dean a little bit turned on, “Professionally or?”

Dean’s not sure if he pales or blushes but he wants to die right at that moment, “Oh uh,” he clears his throat, “I meant in school. We should have taken some of the same credits, right?”

It’s clear that Jimmy, the fucker, knew that that was what Dean meant in the first place when he actually smiles. At Dean. He reels it in to respond, “Ah, no. I took my BA at NYU.”

“Ah,” Dean nods and looks at the floor and then at the soda vending machine that owes Dean $2.50. Should they still be conversing? Had this been a normal situation where a cute guy was talking to Dean he would have turned up the charm, would have tried to get his number. And boy, does Dean want this guy’s number. But it’s weird. He’d seem like a creep. He is a creep, he doesn’t know this guy; he just knows he looks good when he fucks. 

He shakes himself out of it, “Well, anyway. It was nice to meet you. I have a study-group thing I gotta get to.” He makes an awkward half-wave after him as he goes.

\----

Dean is at Coffee and Eat with Benny and Charlie, eating paninis and flipping through notes on Saturday. They don’t have the same major, Benny doesn’t even go to the same school as them, and Dean gives Charlie a look over her laptop when she asks him some bullshit question about codes and programming again.

“I said I’d listen to your presentation but I know fuck-all about this programming crap,” he argues and she about to counter when the bell above the door chimes behind Dean, signaling a customer’s entrance. It barely registers anymore, he’s not at work and it’s Meg and Alfie’s problem right now. But Charlie shuts her mouth and her eyes turn wide as she looks at Dean and to the customer behind him. She tries not to laugh so Dean turns around and makes eye contact with fucking Jimmy Novak, and fuck why does this keep happening?

Dean smiles because this is the third time they’ve run into each other and they’ve had an actual conversation and that means he can’t just ignore him. They’re… acquaintances… now. Dean has a porn star acquaintance. 

Actually, he probably should have just ignored him, but he’s already half-hard.

Jimmy nods and smiles awkwardly and Dean thinks to himself again that his favorite porn star might actually be a real fucking dork in real life. He turns back around, going back to his notes. 

Benny leans back in his chair, popping his back as he stretches it out, “I need more coffee to do this shit,” he pushes some eraser-dust off his worksheet, dangerously close to Dean’s plate of half a Panini. He glares at him but Benny just grins.

“Well, get me a refill too,” he mutters. Advanced molecular genetics is pretty damn advanced but he thinks he’s almost cracked this stupid assignment, if only he could keep from getting fucking distracted every five minutes. It’s really because they’ve been there since 9am and they’ve had far too much coffee to sit still and focus. So the solution is more coffee, obviously. He’s a grad student.

“Nah, brother, you know I don’t get the discount. You get it,” Benny grins because he knows he’s got Dean there and Dean glowers but gets up.

“You want anything, Charlie?”

She doesn’t respond, she’s chewing on the end of Benny’s pencil and staring intently at her screen.

“Heeey, Dean-O,” Meg drawls when Dean makes his way to the counter. Dean hates Meg. They make out every single time they get drunk together but that’s just because Dean likes making out.

“Three refills. And a chocolate chip muffin,” he says.

“Muffin’ll ready in a sec, pretty boy,” she hands the pot of coffee to Dean so he can serve himself because he’s apparently not worthy of her service. 

She grabs a muffin from the display, “You know this will go straight to your waist,” she smirks. Dean glares and leaves with the pot of coffee.

He fills the three cups and Meg calls his name to say his muffin is done. He snatches the plate from her and keeps glaring when he notices her begging eyes, “Will you give this to the guy down there? Table 13.”

“I’m not at fucking work, Meg. You do it.”

She looks up at her through her eyelashes, “I know, Dean, but I just spilled sweetener all over the floor back here and Alfie said Crowley just parked outside. It’s right on your route anyway.”

Dean sighs and takes the mug of cappuccino, relenting “Fine.” They’re all on the same side when it comes to Crowley. He’s evil.

The guy at table 13 is doing homework too, but it’s an on-campus coffee shop so that’s not surprising. There’s an empty mug by his elbow and despite him being by himself he’s picked a four-person table and has spread notes out on every inch of it. Probably a grad student. His nose is almost touching the paper he’s scribbling on so Dean clears his throat to avoid startling him.

“Hey man, here’s your-“

And who but fucking Jimmy could it have been? 

“- cappuccino.”

The dark-haired porn star’s face breaks out into a grin, “Oh, thanks. I didn’t realize you were working at the moment.” His eyes scan down Dean who’s clad in jeans that are ripped (and not in the trendy way) and a plaid button-down over a T-shirt.

“I’m not but Meg’s an idiot, so,” he shrugs and puts down the coffee.

Jimmy just nods. Dean smiles. It’s awkward so he gestures to his friends, “Anyway, I better get back…”

“Right,” the guy says quietly. He looks like he wants to say something but every time they’ve talked in the past Dean has embarrassed himself so he’d like to end this interaction before he can do it again. He turns around.

“Wait!” Jimmy says and Dean turns back around. He’s sitting on his hands, moving his feet under the table like he’s nervous or unsure of himself. “What-“ he finally looks away from his notes and up at Dean, “What’s your name?”

Dean grins because this guy must not think that Dean is a complete idiot then, “I’m Dean.” 

Jimmy smiles kind of self-consciously, seeming to contemplate speaking again so Dean waits, “Mine is Castiel,” he says to his notebook but probably meant for Dean.

Dean smiles at his antics, “Well, nice to meet ya, Cas.” He finally makes his exit, but not before noting the smile Cas’ notebook gets.

\----

Castiel comes into Coffee and Eat every day, or at least every day that Dean is working, and Dean realizes two things over the course of December.

1) This guy, this Castiel, is awkward as shit. He seems all suave and fucking _dom_ in his films as Jimmy Novak, but the Cas that Dean is getting to know? That guy misses social cues and references, and he blushes when Dean smiles at him.

2) Dean’s favorite porn star has a crush on him. Not that it’s not reciprocated.

Oh, and

3) Dean is going to fail all of his exams if he doesn’t cancel his goddamn porn site subscription.

The dork is already smiling when he enters the café that Thursday and who’s Dean to not return that? He gets a medium cardboard cup from the stack.

“Hey Cas, the usual?”

Castiel smiles and nods once, “Please.”

Dean gets to work on the cappuccino and quickly makes sure Meg isn’t around to hear what he’s about to ask Cas.

He hands the cup and paper bag to Cas and leans over the counter on his elbows, which he recognizes as such a bimbo move but can’t stop, “Hey Cas?”

“Hm?” Cas is busy opening the paper bag and doesn’t look at him.

“My friends are having a get-together on Friday,” He hesitates a little then because Castiel is looking up at him through dark eyelashes, one end of strudel in his mouth and Dean swallows.

Cas doesn’t say anything so Dean gathers himself. Goddamn, he is a mess, “You wanna come?” 

He blushes the second the words have left his mouth because he’s frustrated and ‘Jimmy Novak’ is _still_ his favorite porn star and he _still_ hasn’t unsubscribed from his profile and Castiel or Jimmy (fuck, how does this work?) uploaded something with nipple clasps and a double-ended dildo about a week ago that Dean is having a hard time over, if you catch his drift.

Castiel bites off the strudel and swallows hard without chewing because he’s an awkward freak and Dean’s eyes follow the muscles of Castiel throat as they work, and he almost whimpers.

“I would like that very much but I can’t make it this Friday,” he’s not meeting Dean’s eyes but he’s a nervous fella so Dean doesn’t put too much thought to it.

“Too close to finals?” he asks. He’s a pro at talking people into partying and he really wants Cas to com- to be there.

Castiel fiddles with a piece of pastry, “No, I- ah, I’m going to LA.”

Dean frowns, “LA?”

“Yes, I-“ He clears his throat and looks at his shoes, “For work.”

“Work?” Dean feels a million miles left behind but he never quite took Cas for a jetsetter.

Cas clears his throat again, “I have a shoot.”

The cogs finally turn in Dean’s brain and he pushes off the counter he was leaning on, not sure why he’s suddenly so flustered, “Oh! A shoot! Right. Of course.”

How he can fantasize about this guy and jack off to his videos with regularity and be so hyper-aware that he’s seen this guy naked, and _still_ forget that Cas is _Jimmy_ the _porn star_ is beyond him.

It’s just that Castiel is soft-spoken and awkward and brilliant, and he’s always hanging out by himself and Jimmy is bossy and dom and can control a whole gangbang so maybe Dean’s brain just has a hard time connecting the two.

Castiel blushes, “I’m sorry,” he says quietly and Dean’s eyes widen.

“What, no don’t be sorry. Work is work. You can just come with next time, it’s no problem.” Why is it so awkward when they both knew that Castiel was Jimmy Novak and they both knew, that they both knew.

Castiel doesn’t say anything but moves his fingers nervously by his sides.

“Squirrel, I know it’s hard to understand but I don’t actually pay you to flirt with the pretty boys who just want coffee.” It’s Crowley and Dean springs to work, grabbing a damp cloth to wipe down the milk steamer.

“Sorry, Crowley!” He yells over his shoulder to where Crowley is hidden (but apparently all-seeing) in the staff room. He gives Castiel an apologetic look.

Castiel sends Dean an awkward but adorable smile and half-wave, and fuck! Dean really would have liked to apologize for his faux pas before he’d left. And maybe gotten his number this time around.

He’s moved on to the pastry shelves when the bell above the door dings about a minute after Castiel’s exit so Dean’s surprised to see him come back.

And Dean’s definitely been watching too much porn because for a second he imagines Castiel bending him over the desk in the empty coffee shop, covering his mouth with a hand so Crowley doesn’t hear them.

Dean hates himself.

“Finished your coffee already?” he says to make conversation. Castiel is looking kind of intense.

“No,” he’s talking quietly, like Crowley is _his_ boss he doesn’t want to bother, “The case is I just- I don’t get back until I have my first final on Wednesday. I’d like to hear from you while I’m gone.” He hands the coffee sleeve that had been around his cappuccino to Dean, 10 digits written neatly on one side.

Dean doesn’t have time to react beyond grabbing the sleeve before Cas is gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback! B)


	3. Chapter 3

Final week starts next week and Dean’s first final is Monday fucking morning because the universe hates him.

He has Meg cover his shift at the coffee shop that Thursday afternoon while he huddles up in the reading room at the library, behind a fort of books and a 16oz. thermos of coffee that’s gone before he’s finished one chapter.

He’s contemplating getting more coffee because signal transduction is _hard_ , fuck, but Charlie had promised to join him, and Benny said he might too, and he figures he can persuade them to bring coffee since neither is here yet.

He gets his phone out of his book bag and his fingers get slick with sweat because even if he only intended to text his friends for coffee, he still has Castiel’s number and Castiel wants Dean to text him while he’s off shooting porn for the next week. 

Dean is jealous of whoever is getting a week-long sex trip with Castiel in LA and briefly wonders… Does Cas still want him to text him? He’s off getting laid and hanging out with other porn stars, why would he want _Dean_ to text him on a trip like that? Dean’s just a college student and yeah, he’s pretty hot but also a _grad student_ , he’s had to give up on habits like working out and healthy eating, and now he’s kind of pudgy. And all he talks about is his damn comp exam. He can’t imagine he’d be interesting enough for _Cas_.

He has the sleeve but he’d typed the number into his phone the second Crowley had left, and he scrolls for the C’s, pauses at ‘Cas’ before chickening out and pressing ‘Charlie’.

“Coffeeeeee” he texts her. She's a grad student too, she will understand.

He puts the phone down while he waits for her reply and he really fully intends to go back to his notes (he has a meeting with his mentor, Cain, tomorrow and Cain likes Dean well enough but Dean’s always a little scared he’s going to brutally murder him if his Specific Aims aren’t up to snuff). 

He picks up his phone again. It's set to the Don’t Disturb option so really, Charlie could have replied.

(She hasn’t. Charlie never has.)

Dean fiddles with his phone until he feels guilty for not doing his work and for not manning up and texting the stupidly cute guy.

“Hey Cas. How’s your trip going? This is Dean ☺” he sends before he can reconsider and puts his phone on a page in his textbook and closes the book around it. He never uses fucking smileys.

And _how’s your trip going_? How’s your trip going?? He’s away to shoot porn, what kind of question is that! Dean buries his face in his arms.

As it turns out he gets a reply from Cas before Charlie shows up with coffee, and by the time she does Dean has completely neglected all notes, and judging by the look she gives him, is smiling at his phone like a giddy little schoolgirl.

“Did someone finally get the cute porn star's number?” she tweaks an eyebrow at him and he just smiles like the doof he is.

She dumps her book bag on the floor next to Dean’s chair and takes a seat next to him before leaning forwards on her elbows on the table. She flutters her eyelashes at him, “So? You exchange nudes with him yet?”

Dean puts his phone down on the table, “No! I’m only getting to know him.”

“I guess exchanging nudes loses some excitement when you've already seen the person getting dicked. You're being unfair though, most times people have seen _you_ naked before they get your number. Because you’re a whore,” Charlie grins at him. She pulls her very expensive headphones off from around her neck and puts them on the table, and finally shakes out of her coat. 

Dean glares at her. He is starting to feel guilty about the porn thing. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been engaging anymore after the incident at the coffee machine on campus. Or at the very least after he’d found out his real name. 

Dean is interrupted before he can reply by Benny stomping snow off his boots, right there on the library carpet, “Fuck me, it’s cold out there.” He takes a seat on Dean’s other side and nearly hits Dean in the face with a wet and cold coat sleeve. 

“You’re right on time, B. Dean’s gushing over cute porn guy,” Charlie grins and curls a fist under her chin to rest on.

Before Benny can say anything, Dean raises his hands to put an end to this, “Listen guys, I don’t think we can call him cute porn guy anymore now, okay?”

“What- ‘cause we have two names to choose from now?” Charlie giggles.

“I was gonna ask if you’d seen him naked yet but that question sorta answers itself,” Benny chuckles and Charlie laughs out loud. Dean feels bad for all the other students in the reading room – including himself.

“Oh my god, are you just gonna act out one of his porns when you get a home run?” Benny asks and Charlie nearly falls of her chair laughing.

“Shut up, it’s not even like that. We’re just… Texting.” Dean mutters. He opens his textbook and laptop again. He cannot deal with this fuckery. Doesn’t look much like any of the fuckers he calls friends brought him coffee either.

“Just texting, huh? Tell me, is cute porn guy-“ Benny ignores Dean’s glare, “- coming tomorrow? You were thinking about inviting him.”

Dean fiddles with the corner of a page, “Uh, no. He had… Uh, things to do.”

“Things?” Charlie smirks, “Things like errands or things like dildos?”

Dean drops his face in his palms while Benny, the idiot, cackles. A librarian finally comes to shush them and Dean is grateful. 

That is, until Benny starts drawing tiny stick figures with enormous dicks on his comp notes.

 

\------

 

Dean has been attending this university for enough years that he’s embarrassed that he still has trouble knowing where to look for things in the library. But honestly his undergrad years hadn’t been spent there, they’d been spent partying and fucking around, literally and figuratively. 

He’s not sure how he even made it to grad school.

Anyway, now here he is, walking along the bookshelves, moving slowly to search every shelf from bottom to top. At least he’s in the right area, he’s fairly certain.

He needs more fucking literature on protein structure and he needs an IV of coffee. 

And honestly, he needs the person he just spotted alone at a table a few shelves away.

Cas has his nose buried in his laptop, a stack of what Dean can only presume, based on personal experience, to be comp notes at his elbow as well as a couple of textbooks. 

Dean shuffles awkwardly as his brain tries to make a decision on too little sleep and too much coffee. He wants to go over there but Cas looks busy. Nothing worse that being interrupted when you’re finally on a roll. And are they even… Are they good enough of friends? And what should he say anyway? Just hello? Stupid.

Besides he really has to find that stupid book and there were a few articles he was hoping to find in print as well.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says because while Dean was going through all of those arguments in his head, his feet brought him over to Cas’ table.

Dean regains composure quickly, “How’s it going?” 

Castiel gives the patented Grad Student Sigh and rubs his index finger against one temple, “I don’t remember what the floor my apartment looks like because every inch is covered in literature and notes, and I don’t remember the last time I had a proper meal. I suppose that all is par for a grad student, so it’s going well, I suppose.” 

Dean touches the edge of the table with his fingers, “Yeah, I hear you. I never sleep anymore and if I do, I have nightmares about my mentor.”

Castiel chuckles and after a beat of weird eye contact he clears his throat, “How are finals treating you?”

“Don’t even talk about it,” Dean grins, and Castiel grins back and they’re weirdly silent again while they just stare at each other. Dean’s not sure if they’re just behind on sleep or if they’re forming a pattern here. He clears his throat, “Hey, you said you haven’t been eating right. Can’t focus on school if you’re not eating properly, Cas. Wanna grab a bite? D’ya have time?”

Castiel actually perks up and slams his laptop shut like he was just waiting for an excuse, “I have time!” He says perkily and then blushes. “I mean, I can make time. Or, well, yes, I’d like to, eh, ‘grab a bite’,” he says while trying to gather his notes and make air quotes at the same time.

Dean wants to swoon.

They leave the library walking close enough together that they bump shoulders every now and then.

 

“I honestly had another picture in my head when I said you should eat a proper meal,” Dean grins. They’re at a diner a few blocks from campus, two Cokes between them and freshly served bacon cheeseburgers.

Castiel has his burger between his hands, grease already running down one wrist. Dean finds that he wants to lick him. “I’ll eat a vegetable tomorrow, I promise,” Castiel says, focus on the burger as his twists it to see where it’s easier to bite off. “Besides it’s nice to spend time with someone who’s not my mentor for once,” he finally takes a bite and Dean knows he’s staring, especially when the tip of Cas’ tongue drifts out to catch a crumb.

He gets his shit together and swallows his bite of burger, “I feel ya. If I didn’t work at the coffee shop once a week I don’t think I’d see anyone but my mentor and my brother.”

“If you didn’t work there I don’t believe I’d be quite so social myself,” Castiel says way too genuinely for what Dean is prepared for.

Maybe that’s why he says what he says next: “You don’t exactly work a solitary job yourself.” He’s smirks while he says it because it’s meant to be teasing, but he regrets it the second the words have left his mouth. They are nowhere _near_ close enough that Dean feels it’s okay for him to bring up Castiel’s porn star status.

Castiel blushes and swallows hard around half a fry, “I uh… It’s not exactly a positive social environment. I don’t have much in common with the people I work with.”

“Right,” Dean nods and then picks up his soda to do something with his hand, “You know, I didn’t mean to bring it up like that, you don’t have to tell me about it.”

“It’s alright, I just… I’m not used to people knowing about it,” he shrugs. “But the community is very… It’s a lot of partying and rumors and substance abuse.”

Dean nods as he listens. Despite his physical responses to Castiel, he still sometimes has a difficult time relating the Jimmy he’s jacked off to so many times to the Castiel he’s getting to know. As Castiel talks about his experience, he remembers Carmen who he had dated (meaning fucked around with for a few months) in undergrad. He wonders if it’s normal that he’s now met two people he’d recognized from porn or if he has problem. Maybe he’s just lucky.

“You don’t enjoy it?” he feels compelled to ask. Between a deadbeat, pocket money-stealing dad and a hungry little brother Dean has had an array of shitty jobs growing up, ranging from babysitting, busing tables and retail. And some shadier stuff, but he tries not to think about that. He knows coworkers can really make a shitty job endurable. Even Meg is nice to have when Crowley really gets going.

Castiel draws lines in his ketchup with a fry, “It’s just a job,” he says with a slight shrug.

Dean reads the discomfort in the line of his shoulders and even though he wants to pry (goddamnit does he want to hear Cas’ porn stories), he changes the subject. He is rewarded when he learns that Castiel is from Seattle, has two older siblings and his favorite movie is Amélie. 

An even bigger reward is his laugh. He is laughing adorably, gums showing and eyes shining as Dean tells another anecdote about his freshman year dorm roomie.

“He’d just yelled at me for flirting with his girl and then he walks in on me with a guy. You should have seen his face! He apologized for a solid half an hour, I swear,” Dean is laughing too. He usually tells these anecdotes when he wants to let the other guy know that Dean does like dick. Or if it’s a girl, that he likes vagina. Dean is open about it but number one thing he learned in undergrad was that most people don’t believe in bisexuality.

Right now though, he’s not telling it to let Cas know. He’s pretty sure Cas is well aware that Dean is into him. He’s just sharing funny memories from when they still had time to make fun memories (that is, before grad school). 

Maybe a tiny little part of him is telling the story because he wants Cas to share something like that too. Dean doesn’t actually know if Cas is gay. He fucks all sort of people in his films. Dean assumes he's attracted to guys because even if Castiel is awkward and goes about it in his own way, he’s pretty sure Cas is flirting with him.

But it wouldn’t be the first time he’s misinterpreted friendliness for flirting. He cringes as he remembers the first two weeks of getting to know Benny.

Castiel doesn’t divulge any stories about exes though, but they get into a pretty hefty discussion about Firefly for a couple of hours.

Their plates have been long cleared from the table and their empty Cokes have been replaced with new ones and then emptied again, when Castiel pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time and sighs.

“I do apologize, Dean, but I must get going. I didn’t realize it was getting so late,” he looks regrettably up at Dean.

Dean checks his own phone and ignores the notifications in favor of the clock. It’s 9PM and Dean has done fuck all on his Specific Aims or literature list and he’s working a double tomorrow. “Fuck, yeah, I should have left like three hours ago!”

Castiel grins at Dean while they shrug into their coats, “I’ve fallen quite behind on my schedule today. Thanks a lot.”

Dean chuckles at his sarcasm, “And you didn’t even get a proper meal out of it.”

They make their way to the bar to settle the bill, splitting it because this isn’t a date.

“This was better than a proper meal,” Cas says and Dean wants to push him for being too genuine again. He feels all warm inside.

“Still,” he holds the door open for Cas, “I promise I will get real food in ya some day.”

“I believe I’ve made it sound worse than it is. I swear I do actually eat nutritious food every once in a while. I always buy fortified toast.” Cas’ breath is foggy in the chilly night air and he looks beautiful in the streetlight against the dark sky.

Dean chuckles at that and tries to sound nonchalant when he suggests, “I actually cook, you know. You should come by sometime.”

Castiel is quiet for a little while as they walk towards Dean’s car.

“I would like that. Thank you.” He says all genuine again, and Dean smiles way too big.

“Hey, no prob,” he slaps Cas’ arm because the moment got to loaded, “I’ll text you and we’ll find a day.”

Castiel nods and looks up at Dean through his eyelashes and Dean wants to touch his face where the shadow from his lashes fan out on his cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are chapped and Dean wants to kiss him.

Instead of doing any of that he nudges Cas with his elbow, “Get in the car, I’ll take you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and kudos mean the world <3


	4. Chapter 4

Dean hasn’t dated since he started grad school. The reason is probably a mix between Dean having no time to spare to 

a) meet people 

and 

b) date them

And it probably doesn't help that when Dean does meet people he only fucking talks about his stupid comp exam.

That’s why he’s grateful that Castiel is a grad student too, and in a similar field, because he gets it. When Dean complains about his examination committee and the completely unfair due dates, Castiel is right there with him. 

They don’t have much time to hang out but Dean isn’t even worried about it because he knows they are both busy with their school stuff. And Cas knows it too.

For some reason, though, they find a lot more time in their schedule to hang out than they probably really have to spare.

At least a lot of their shared time is spent at the library. Dean thinks he could actually maybe take Cas' comp exam for him in a few months. (No, he can't, he's not sure he can even take his own).

Over the course of January they get into the habit of meeting at the library in the early afternoon and going for coffee and some type of dinner in the early evening. Cas still hasn’t been to Dean’s place for dinner and part of the reason is that Sam lives there and Dean just isn’t ready for that.

Another part of the reason is that they seem to be moving so damn _slowly_. Dean isn’t sure that what they’re doing can be called _dating_ , but he definitely thinks that what they’re doing falls somewhere close to _seeing each other_. He’s pretty sure they’re headed somewhere. He fucking hopes so, Cas is great.

The chemistry is there but Castiel is hard to read. He’s awkward and shy, and yeah Dean is fucking into it but some confirmation would be nice. Usually Dean isn’t shy to go for what he wants; he was actually kind of infamous for it in undergrad, but this, with Cas, it feels to important. If he went full speed ahead he’s worried he might just scare Cas off.

Charlie says he should just go for it and Benny calls him an idiot when he voices his concerns. Aaron says he wishes Dean had been that considerate when _they’d_ gone out a few years ago.

Dean, even though he really knows better, asks Sam one day.

It’s a Saturday morning and Sam is back from the gym by the time Dean gets up and they run into each other in the kitchen for breakfast.

“You stink,” is how Dean greets Sam who’s sweating through his sweatshirt.

“You’re ugly,” Sam says as scoops protein powder into a plastic shaker.

Dean smiles at Cas’ good morning text instead of replying to Sam.

“Dude,” Sam says, “When are you gonna introduce me to this person? You’ve been seeing them for what, a month?”

“Shut up,” Dean replies automatically.

“Fine, whatever. Jerk,” Sam says and leaves the kitchen while shaking up his nasty protein shake.

“Bitch,” Dean mumbles but follows Sam into Sam’s room.

“Uh, dude? Excuse me?” Sam says when he notices.

Dean finishes the text to Cas and sits down on Sam’s bed before finally looking up at Sam, “His name is Castiel.”

Sam’s bitch-face disappears and he sits down in his rolling chair, stupid bitch-little brother smile on his face.

“He’s a grad student too,” Dean says, shrugging. He hates these kind of talks, especially with Sam because Sam’s relationships are _always_ long term and Dean’s _never_ are, even when he wants them to be.

Sam twists the chair with his feet on the floor, never able to sit still, the overgrown child, “And you’re dating?”

Dean runs a hand over his mouth, “I don’t know,” he sighs and tips his head back, facing the ceiling, “Fuck, I don’t know.”

Sam stays silent. He knows Dean hates this, hates that Sam has a tendency to turn it into a heart-to-heart. 

Dean is spared this time because instead of giving him stupid puppy eyes and heartfelt advice, Sam stands up and removes his sweaty sweatshirt, “You know you could just ask him,” he says as he leaves to take a shower.

Dean appreciates the effort but what the fuck is he supposed to do with that kind of shit advice?

\------

 

Dean is kind of proud of himself for asking Castiel to come by his apartment without hesitating or stammering or sweating through his T-shirt, and he has also beaten himself in the face with his notebook repeatedly for being proud of something he’s been doing since he was 14. 

He has just turned in his Specific Aims and he gets his examination committee’s comments in less than a week, so now is really the time to focus on dating. His horoscope agrees.

He’s made sure Sam is out of the house (he’s at some blonde’s apartment, Dean is proud) and Dean has done the dishes and deleted his browser history. The basics.

He wrings his hands nervously and contemplates fluffing the couch cushions. Why is he like this? He cannot count on his fingers how many people he’s slept with, and really no matter what Sam or Benny might say, most of them have been hot. One of them was even a porn star, so why is this a big deal?

Dean doesn’t think that what they have planned today is a dick appointment anyway. He has his hopes but he's trying to be realistic. It had been a little awkward when they’d made the plans. 

It had been just a few days before the Specific Aims due date and Dean had been at Coffee and Eat studying with Aaron, a fellow grad student and also (awks) ex-boyfriend, and Castiel had been studying by himself, two tables over.

Dean had been getting refills for himself and Aaron, and had bought a cappuccino for Cas on a whim. 

He’d carried the three mugs with him (he’s been a waiter for too long) and set them on the only corner of Cas’ table that wasn’t covered in microbiology lab reports and comp notes.

“Hey Cas, got ya a coffee.”

Cas had looked up, squinting confusedly at Dean for a beat that made Dean remember he was wearing his reading glasses and he ripped them off in a rush. “Dean! Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”

Dean had shrugged, “I get the employee discount so…”

“Well, I was just about getting enough of this so you came at the right time,” he’d gestured to the stacks of paper.

“Yeah, that’s grad school, huh? Thought I’d get some down time after finals but nope,” he’d pulled out the chair across from Cas and sat down. Castiel had sent him a look that told him he agreed.

“It’s very time-consuming, yes. But I must confess I rather enjoy it,” Cas had picked up his mug and taken a sip. They’d been a little bit of foam stuck on his upper lip and Dean had wanted to groan. He’d picked up his own mug of coffee and smirked at Cas from behind the brim:

“Who’d known you were such a nerd?”

Castiel had given him a playful smile, “I hate to be the one to remind you, Dean, but you are a grad student yourself. So what does that make you?”

“Heh, got me there,” Dean had taken another sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving Cas’. Dean still doesn't know why but it had felt like the right time to ask: “So, uh, I know you’re turning in your Specific Aims in a few days… Maybe we’ll finally have time to get real food together?”

He’d asked a million people out a million times before and he _knew_ there’d be no way Cas could misinterpret that as being anything but a date. Dean had tried before, asking for study dates, but Cas had never seemed to really get what Dean had been putting down. ‘Study date’ in undergrad had meant third base _at least_ , and they still hadn't even held hands!

Castiel had grinned big enough that he’d bit his lower lip to reel it in and then looked up at Dean through his eyelashes, “I think I can fit you into my schedule.”

Dean hadn’t been able to keep from grinning right back; that had been some pretty suggestive flirting, “You think so?”

“Well,” Castiel had flipped through a few pages of a textbook, tapped a key on his laptop; fidgeting under Dean's gaze, all the while still smiling, “I’m sure.”

“Yeah?” Dean had tried to catch his eyes again.

“Yes,” he’d finally looked up at Dean with those big blues of his, “I’d like to have dinner with you very much, Dean.”

And that was when Dean realized he’d drunk all his coffee and let Aaron’s go cold, and he really had to get back to his work. They’d parted with promises of texts to settle on a date and time.

 

Dean has gone over the interaction in his mind one too many times and now he honestly doesn’t know what to expect. To be on the safe side, he’s not expecting them to bang tonight. He thinks they’re just going to have dinner, complain about grad school, maybe watch a movie. But just to be safe, Dean’s not making anything with chili and he restocked his bedside table drawer with lube.

Castiel arrives exactly on time and Dean, the idiot, runs for the door, way too excited to see him.

“Hey Cas! Food’s just done,” he greets him. 

“It smells good in here,” Castiel replies and unzips his coat. 

After hanging the coat on a hook in the hall, Dean guides Castiel towards the kitchen, “Do you want a grand tour before we eat?” he asks over his shoulder, “It’s a two bedroom, so the food won’t get cold.”

Castiel grins, “Well then, sure.”

Dean sweeps a hand out, “Kitchen,” he walks through the other doorway that connects to the kitchen island, which opens into the living room, “Living room slash guest room when Charlie is fighting with her girlfriend,” he hears Castiel chuckle behind him.

“Do you live alone?” Castiel asks, coming to stand next to Dean in the middle of the living room.

“Nope, that-“ he points to the closed door to Sam’s room, “is my brother’s room.” Castiel nods. Dean points in a different direction, “Bathroom. And,” he opens the last door, “My room.”

Castiel peeks in from the doorway. Dean has actually made his bed for once, but his pillowcase doesn’t match the other bedding. 

After a quick scan of the room, Castiel turns to Dean, “It’s nice.” They’re standing so close their noses are almost touching.

Dean steps back and closes the door again, “It’s pretty decent for how much rent is. We can cover it with my job and my brother’s student loans.”

“And tuition too?” Castiel asks as he follows Dean back to the kitchen.

“We both have scholarships, and we have a relative that helps us out. Honestly, with grad school it has gotten a little tight because I can’t work as much. I worked three jobs in undergrad.” Dean gestures for Cas to take a seat at the table and then opens the fridge, “What do you want to drink? I bought wine but I wasn’t sure if you like it or even drink, so I have beer, water, some flat coke from last weekend and Sam’s nasty multi-juice.”

“Wine is great,” Castiel sits down, “If your finances are tight, couldn’t you get student loans like your brother? And most other students for that matter?”

Dean twists the bottle opener into the cork of the wine (he’d bought the fancy kind – the fancy $25 kind), “Nah, I have debt already so I can’t get approved. It’s actually a pretty fucked up situation.” He twists the cork out and it audibly pops. He gets them a couple of glasses and then finally sits down across from Cas. 

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to pry,” Castiel excuses, eyes wide and apologetic. 

Dean pours the wine, “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind, it’s just a really long story.”

“Right,” Castiel accepts the glass, “I have a few of those.”

Dean almost says _I bet_ but manages to keep his trap shut. You don’t end up in porn without long stories, but Castiel hadn’t pried and Dean doesn’t want to either. They talk about examination committees as they eat instead.

 

After dinner Cas helps Dean with the dishes despite his protests. Dean secretly appreciates it, he hates doing the dishes, and it honestly wouldn’t have been below him to just leave them to Sam. Yeah, he’s an asshole, what else is new.

Then they move to the living room, new glasses of wine and a promise of no more talk about grad school.

“That’s a nice TV,” Castiel comments when Dean turns on Netflix.

“Yeah, I always buy Charlie’s old tech stuff when she upgrades,” Dean admits.

“And you’re using your other friend’s Netflix, I see.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Please, Cas, who actually pays their own Netflix subscription?”

“Well, I actually use my brother’s so I guess you have a point,” Castiel grins and picks up his glass of wine.

They’re sitting pretty close on the couch. Dean has sat down near the armrest, because that’s his spot, ass print and all, and Castiel had plopped down right next to him, folding his feet under him. 

“What does your brother do?” Dean asks after he’s put on Firefly.

“He does a lot of different things, but uh, I think his main thing is porn directing,” Castiel shares and Dean freezes, glass halfway to his mouth.

“Awkward,” he says.

Castiel bites his lip, “We don’t work together. But yeah, it is a little.”

“So who started?” Dean grins. He’s gotten the feeling, in the past, that Castiel is uncomfortable discussing his profession, but Dean can’t help himself. The Milton family business is _porn_ for fuck’s sake.

Castiel rolls his eyes, “He did. I think he started making amateur tapes when he was still in high school.”

Dean laughs, he can’t help it, “That’s fucked up, man.”

Castiel chuckles too and his eyes are shining from the wine and the TV light, “He’s quite a character.”

“So what about your sister? She do porn too?” 

Castiel’s smile fades, “No uh, she’s not… She’s a part time student right now.”

Dean feels bad but he’s not sure if he should or how to apologize. “In New York as well?”

“No, she’s in California. There’s this art school.” Castiel fingers the rim of his glass.

“That’s pretty neat,” Dean offers. There’s obviously some backstory Cas isn’t ready to fill him in on and Dean is not about to ruin this.

“I wish she was closer. Or closer to Gabriel at least but it was what she wanted and she got in, so…” 

Dean shifts the topic to himself because he thinks Cas needs him to: “Sam talked about Stanford all through high school. Just the thought of not living near him, I was completely lost.”

He realizes how weird and incest-y that sounds and offers, “We were really close growing up. He’s the only one who’s always… You know, he’s always been there. We went through a lot together growing up.”

He’s not so sure that this topic change was as successful as he had hoped. Probably should have gone a little lighter.

Cas comes to the rescue: “Yes well, siblings are a treasure.”

Dean shrugs, “He has his moments.”

The comment earns him a chuckle and then they stare at the screen for a few minutes, neither one talking, until Castiel says, “That Wash looks very familiar. He reminds me of my mentor.”

“He’s the pirate in Dodgeball,” Dean supplies. He can relate to recognizing an actor and not remembering where the fuck from. Thank God for IMDb.

“I don’t believe my mentor plays any sports,” Castiel frowns at him.

Dean rolls his eyes, “Dude, no, _Wash_. Alan Tudyk, he plays the pirate in Dodgeball.”

Castiel keeps frowning.

Dean gestures to nothing, “Dodgeball? Vince Vaughn and Ben Stiller? Poorly concealed racism and sexism? C’mon, it’s a classic! It was the most quoted movie at my middle school for three consecutive years.”

And Castiel is still frowning. Dean grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him up off the couch, “Well, fuck Firefly, we’re watching Dodgeball.” He turns off the TV and pulls Castiel with him into his bedroom where he lets go of him.

“I am confused,” Castiel says and sits down on Dean’s bed, “Is it not a movie?”

“Yes, Cas, it’s a movie,” Dean rolls his eyes as he digs through his closet for his book bag to find his laptop. He’d shoved everything in his closet to ‘tidy his room’ before Cas came over. The mountain of laundry that spills out at his feet is embarrassing.

“But not one we will be watching on the TV?” Castiel leans back on his elbows. He seems pretty fascinated with the mattress and Dean knows why.

“Nah, it’s not on Netflix but I’ve got the torrent. I can hook it up to the TV unless you’d rather stay here,” Dean smirks at Cas who has now lied down across the bed. 

“Your mattress is very comfortable,” Cas says dreamily to the ceiling.

Dean kind of wants to see this guy high. He brings the laptop and charger to the bed and places them next to his pillow, “It’s memory foam. Wicked expensive but worth every fucking double shift. Now scoot,” he gently kicks Cas’ shin that’s hanging over the edge of the bed.

Castiel rearranges himself to lie on his stomach and Dean lies down next to him before opening up the laptop and putting on the movie. Dean’s bed is a three-quarter so they both do fit but their elbows are touching and Dean can feel Castiel breathing next to him. It’s all very exciting. They’re in Dean bedroom, door closed, both on the bed, and Sam isn’t home. 

Dean would kind of have expected them to be naked by now, but the movie is already playing and Cas is laughing at the dumb cheerleader tryout flashback. He didn’t expect sex, he’d promised himself to not be that douche, but seriously? They’re like halfway there. And this movie really isn’t good enough to choose over sex. Or at least third base.

But Cas is enamored. Dean has seen it 500 times and figures maybe he can just wait for Cas to lose interest in the movie. They’re already in his bedroom.

Cas doesn’t lose interest and Dean falls asleep before the team has even made it to the finals.

All in all it beats reading over each others' lab reports for grammar and equation errors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might seem a little short but it got way too long and I decided to split it into two chapters. That should mean the wait for next one shouldn't be too long. Hopefully lol

Dean wakes up in a pool of his own sweat. His t-shirt is sticking to his back, and he feels like he’s suffocating under the covers and under Cas’ arm. And hey, that _is_ Cas’ arm that’s resting across his waist. That almost makes the inferno under the covers worth it.

Almost.

Dean kicks the covers off his bottom half and hesitates for a moment before pulling Cas’ arm off of him. He’s careful about it but Castiel stirs and cracks open an eye. He’s lying on his stomach, face mushed into Dean’s only pillow.

“’Morning sunshine,” Dean grins and sits up. 

Castiel lies still for a good minute before rubbing a fist into his eye, and he is so goddamn adorable that Dean has to hide a grin behind his shoulder.

Castiel sits up too and stretches with a groan that does something to Dean that he hopes he can excuse with it being early in the morning.

“I didn’t mean to spend the night. I hope I didn’t overstay my welcome,” he says with a rusty voice. Rustier than usual. It’s not fair.

“Shut up,” Dean says and nudges Cas with his elbow. He needs to get out of bed because it is too goddamn hot, “Let’s get some breakfast.”

Dean heads to the bathroom while Castiel gets out of bed because Castiel is apparently not a morning person, and goddamnit does Dean love learning new shit about this person.

He yawns and it morphs into a smile while he does his business. Castiel spent the night and he’s gorgeous in the morning and they told each other things about their families (which is something Dean usually keeps far, _far_ away from his love interests).

He’s still smiling to himself as he reenters the living room but stops dead in his tracks when he sees that his brother has now met Dean’s new… something. Sam is in his workout gear (of course) and Castiel has pillow-lines on his face.

They’re not saying anything, apparently content with just staring at each other. They’ve probably already gotten the ‘good morning’s out of the way.

“’Morning,” Dean says casually and makes his way over to them.

“Good morning Dean. Didn’t realize you had company,” Sam says with s stupid fucking smirk on his face and Dean wants to scowl, but he doesn’t want Castiel to witness this shit this early in the morning.

Dean smiles obnoxiously sweetly and gestures to Cas, “This is Castiel. Cas, this is my brother Sam.”

“Nice to meet you,” Cas says, sticking out his hand.

“Oh, _you’re_ Cas! Dean has told me so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” And now Sam’s smirking is over and he’s looking all excited and Dean hates him because he’s told him two things about Cas, and that is that he’s a grad student and that he’s hard to read.

When Castiel blushes Dean forgets about being mad at Sam.

He doesn’t forget to break their meeting up before it can escalate though, “Yeah, that’s great. Let’s go get breakfast, Cas.”

Castiel looks taken aback by the abruptness, like being rude to your siblings isn’t a law, “Oh uh, okay.”

Dean smiles obnoxiously at Sam, “See ya later.”

They’re out of the door before Sam can call him a jerk.

 

\-----

 

They went almost a full twelve hours without talking about school and Dean thinks they deserve pancakes and bacon (he would have ordered it anyway), but the conversation is back to Specific Aims before their coffee has even arrived.

“When do you get your comments?” Dean asks. He pretends not to notice the interested glance the waitress shoots Castiel.

“On Tuesday if things go as planned,” Castiel honestly doesn’t notice the waitress. Dean is secretly smug and the waitress probably knows it too.

“Oh come on, Cas, you’re the smartest person I know, I’m sure you don’t have to change a thing,” Dean means it. Or it’s a tie between Sam and Cas. Nerds.

Castiel twirls his coffee cup between long fingers. It reminds Dean of a video with anal beads, and fuck man, he’d been doing so well on the whole separating Jimmy from Cas-thing. He’s proud to announce he hasn’t been on that site for three weeks now!

“Hopefully not too much. We don’t have too much time before we have to hand in the full proposal.”

Dean groans. He’s already stressed out, “Don’t remind me!”

Castiel chuckles but Dean is actually scared he won’t make the deadline. “Do you get your comments this week?”

“Wednesday,” Dean shares.

“That’s not long,” Castiel supplies.

Dean leans back in his seat, “Just in time for my birthday actually. It’s on Thursday.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Really? That’s valuable information.” Dean can’t believe he talks like that.

He shrugs, “My friends and I are going out, do you wanna come?”

Cas licks his lip and looks kind of uncomfortable. Dean had almost forgotten that Cas is actually shy. “On Thursday?”

Dean nods in confirmation.

“Well, yes, I think I’d like to come. Are you having a party?” 

Dean shrugs, “We might meet at my place for a few beers first. Just to save money and play drinking games.”

Castiel nods. He’s staring at his coffee, “I’ll come,” then he looks up at Dean, “I wouldn’t want to miss your birthday.”

Dean outright beams.

 

\-----

 

“What do you want for your birthday?” Benny asks while Dean kicks his ass at Mario Kart.

“Yeah, D, you can’t expect us to just buy you shots again this year,” Charlie says while kicking both Dean and Benny’s asses at Mario Kart.

“I have two wishes this year,” Dean says and leans to the right to make his cart turn sharper. It totally works. “I want no one to throw up on any of my furniture.”

“Hey!” Charlie says.

“And for someone to write my fucking full proposal.” Dean gets a headache whenever he thinks of the next few months lying ahead of him.

“Wow, brother, grad school getting to ya?” Benny asks.

Dean doesn’t want to complain. It’s not his style and his friends will just call him a lazy drama queen, but man, is grad school getting to him. He actually thought he was going to have some sort of fit at work the other day, because he couldn’t stop thinking about things he should be reading, revising, researching. But he couldn’t very well let Meg or Alfie or whomever cover another shift, because the way Dean’s been giving them away lately, he and Sam will end up on the street.

It’s not that bad yet. Sam has a savings account if it gets really bad. But he also has a law school ambition that’s just getting closer, and Dean really doesn’t want to ask Bobby again, and the worries are starting to take a toll. 

He just shrugs in reply to Benny’s question.

Benny passes Dean and then curses Charlie for throwing a banana peel. Dean is just about to focus back on the game but gets a text he figures he might as well check. 

_Do you want to get dinner before your party on Thursday?_

It’s from Cas. Dean bites his lip, and Cas shoots him another text:

_Unless you have plan already of course._

_My friends only care about drinking so im free. Dinner’d be great ☺_

Dean texts back. Castiel has invited him out on his birthday. That’s not fucking hard to read.

“Hey, is cute porn guy coming?” Charlie wants to know, probably apropos of Dean being stuck to his phone for the last three minutes and losing the race.

Dean huffs a frustrated sigh, offended on Cas’ behalf, “Charlie, stop calling him that.”

“Fine, sor- _ry_. Is _Castiel_ coming?”

“He said he would,” Dean feels a little better at the thought.

Charlie wins and woops, then turns to Dean who’s finally getting back to playing against Benny, “You know, we’ve never officially met him.” She gestures between herself and Benny. “Can’t wait to party with a porn star again. It was so awesome when you dated Carmen in sophomore year!” she sounds too excited. Dean kind of thinks Charlie still has a crush on her.

“Listen, Cas isn’t like Carmen. He’s not gonna tell you funny stories or shit like that,” Dean says. He’s starting to regret inviting Cas. His friends don’t have a filter and what little filter they have is easily drunk off by alcohol. He doesn’t want Cas to be uncomfortable and he doesn’t want Cas to think that Dean has been telling everything he’s said to his friends, because he’s been very careful with that. Cas is a private person and Dean gets that.

“Aw come on, that’s just a matter of getting enough alcohol into him,” Benny chuckles.

Dean puts down his joystick, “I’m serious, guys. Don’t talk about porn to Cas, okay? He’ll just be embarrassed.”

Charlie rolls her eyes and giggles, not taking Dean seriously, “What can we talk with him about then?”

“Charlie, I don’t care. What do you talk to strangers about? Talk to him about coding or Harry Potter. Or microbiology for all I care.” Dean wishes he didn’t snap like that. Charlie holds her hands up in defense.

Benny understands, “We get it, no porn. We’ll read up on Wikipedia’s microbiology.” He starts the next game and Dean could kiss him for it.

 

\-----

 

Cain’s emails Dean his comments on the Specific Aims and Dean doesn’t look at them for 24 hours, which is when Sam forces him to check them.

“You’re being ridiculous. You have a great committee and you’ve been working really hard,” Sam is booting up his laptop for Dean.

Dean paces the living room, “What if they reject it? What if it’s too close to my thesis? I’ve used some of the same literature, which was a shitty fucking idea. I really think I fucked this up!” He feels like ripping out his hair. And on his birthday too. Not fair.

“It’s not similar, Dean, just relax. I’ve never seen you this worried about school stuff before and this isn’t even the final exam _or_ your thesis. Even if your aims are rejected, your committee will guide you and you’ll still pass the comp exam before summer,” Sam taps on his laptop, “Now what’s your login?”

Dean tells him and Sam logs into his student email, “There’s PDF,” Sam tells him, “Do you want me to read it to you?”

Dean leans against the table across from Sam, “Ugh, no. Yes. I don’t know, just put me out of my misery!”

Sam is right; Dean never has been this strung out over schoolwork. And this is his second year of grad school. He’s not sure what has changed; he used to not care about grades or comments, as long as he passed the course. Dean thinks it might be because he’s so stressed out about the financial stuff that it tears on his focus and confidence in other areas too. God, he hates his dad for doing this and he hates his bank for letting his dad do it.

Dean reads the PDF after Sam has promised him is aims weren’t rejected. The comments are good, really good. There are a few corrections to be made but other than that Dean is all set to start on his full proposal. Which is great because it’s not like Dean has a thesis to write alongside the full proposal. 

He gets so stressed he almost wants to cancel on his friends for his birthday, he just wants to do research and go through his notes. But he has that dinner with Cas and he’s been looking forward to it for three days, and he doesn’t think he could get himself to cancel that for anything.

He really wants to see his friends too. He needs to unwind with his friends and some drink, and just not think about school or money or John fucking Winchester for a night.

Actually he needs to get his mind off all of that and set on figuring Castiel out. Maybe he’ll get laid for his birthday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to leave a comment, it means a lot :D


	6. Chapter 6

Dean has never been more ready for a date. He’s generally the type who’s five minutes late, even when he tries his hardest not to be. It’s not his fault most times, really; he wasn’t the one who decided it’s only 60 minutes to an hour.

But he’s ready now, with _minutes_ to spare and he spends them pacing around the apartment and cursing at Sam for laughing at him.

At 6PM sharp Castiel arrives on Sam and Dean’s doorstep, despite Dean’s offer to pick him up at his place. Dean’s dropped him off there before but he’s never been inside. Even from outside Dean can tell it’s a lot nicer than his and Sam’s place.

Cas looks great, like he actually made some effort, which isn’t really his style. He always looks great of course, in the disheveled way; Dean digs the messed up hair and wrinkly, inside-out shirts, but today… Castiel has his hair slicked back and this is the first time Dean notices that it’s actually kind of long, curling at the nape of his neck, like he can’t be bothered to get a haircut, and that his face is unfairly symmetrical and Dean wants to lick his cheekbones and jugular and even his fucking nose. 

He’s wearing a light blue button-down under his open trench coat, and black slacks, and while it isn’t too far stretched from what he usually wears it’s different enough that Dean almost suggests they stay in.

“You look great-“

“Happy birthday-“ They say over one another.

Then: “Thank you,” at the same time. 

Then Sam from the hallway: “That’s pretty cute, you guys.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs his leather jacket, “Fuck you, see you later. Let’s go, Cas.”

Castiel doesn’t step back when Dean steps into the hallway and they end up standing very close. Dean looks expectantly up at Cas, wondering what he wants. Don’t they have some place to be? Should they go back inside? Ask Sam to leave instead…

“You look very nice too, Dean,” he says and moves back slightly to allow air between them.

“Thanks,” Dean smiles and then remembers that Sam is probably watching them through the peephole in their closed door, “Now c’mon, I’m starving.”

 

It turns out that this is not just a date, but it’s a date that has _reservations_ at a _restaurant_. And it’s a nice place downtown, a two-story building with a large balcony that protects the patrons from the cold night of January with large glass panels. That’s where the hostess seats them, right by the railing so they have the view over a park and the streets below.

It’s dark already and the beginning of a new moon is visible through the glass panels. Candlelight makes shadows play around on Cas’ features and Dean wants to cancel going out with his friends.

“This is a nice place,” Dean says as he scoots in his chair.

Castiel fiddles with his napkin (it’s the thick kind, hard to tear, because this is a fancy place) and drops it in his lap, “A friend of mine suggested it. She tends to have good taste.”

Dean nods and opens the menu that’s bound by leather and is unfoldable, “You’ve been here before?”

“No. I'm not much in the habit of going out,” Castiel says and Dean isn’t surprised. Cas is an introvert with a capital I.

“So where _have_ you been in KC?” Dean wonders because so far he’s only ever seen him at the library and Coffee and Eat.

Castiel shrugs self-consciously, “Coffee and Eat… That diner you took me to.”

Dean looks incredulously at him, “Cas! You’re kidding. When did you move here?”

The waitress brings them water while they take too long to decide what to order because they keep getting distracted by conversation.

Castiel chuckles quietly, “I moved here this summer. Late August.”

Dean nods in understanding, “Wow, I thought you’d been here much longer. Wait, are you on your first year of grad school?”

“That is correct,” Cas is smiling at his menu and Dean still kind of loves seeing him in bird’s eye. What? It’s biology or something.

Dean looks at the first page of the menu without reading anything for a moment, trying to calculate, “So how old are you?”

He can’t believe he hasn’t asked this earlier. After that stunt with Lisa his senior year of high school he’d made a habit of double-checking his dates’ age. Of course, the chances of finding a minor in grad school are much, much lower.

“Twenty-three. In May,” Cas provides. Dean nods, biting his lip. It could’ve been worse. “And you? How old are you turning today?”

This always makes Dean self-conscious. When he was younger he always felt too young. Too young to sign permission slips and buy cough medicine for Sam. It shifted when he started college, then he always felt too old. 

“Twenty-six today.”

Castiel looks up at Dean, still slightly bent over the menu. Dean knows he’s counting years. If a second-year grad student is turning twenty-six, he must’ve wasted some time. And that’s true, Dean did.

“Twenty-six? Did you have a gap year?” Castiel asks, genuinely interested.

Dean huffs a laugh and then the waitress asks if they’re ready to order drinks. They both get beer.

Dean rests his elbows on the table, “It wasn’t really ‘gap years’. I wasn’t planning on going to college. Wasn’t even planning on graduating high school if I hadn’t been forced to.”

Castiel knits his eyebrows together in consideration, “And here you are, a grad student. You must be proud.”

Dean shrugs in response. Most of his feelings concerning himself tend to be shame and guilt. It’s how he was raised. He changes the subject, “Why’d you move from New York?”

“I don’t know… It’s- KU has a good program,” Castiel says and picks his menu back up.

“You moved from New York City to Kansas City because of education prospects? C’mon Cas,” Dean calls his bullshit. He’s not sure if he should.

Castiel sighs, “I- it’s a long story, really, but I used to live with my sister there. And she got sick and I guess I got kind of sick too. Things got very complicated. I just needed a new start. We both did.”

“Right,” Dean nods. He wants to let Cas know he appreciates him opening up like this, but he’s not good at that. “Why Kansas though?”

Castiel shrugs and Dean takes the hint. The waitress can finally take their orders and soon after brings them their food.

They cover an array of topics (and a lot of complaining about examination committees) and after a while the topic goes back to family. To Sam.

“He seems like a very bright man,” Castiel says and there’s a twinge of jealousy that Dean hates himself for but everyone just always likes Sam better. Not that they shouldn’t.

Pride takes over though, “Yeah, he’s great. He was valedictorian and on the fast track back in high school. He’s double-majoring right now and already talking to law schools.”

“Wow, full speed ahead,” Castiel says.

Dean puts his knife and fork down, “Yeah, I just hope we can afford it.”

Castiel looks at him, listening. The flame from the candle contrasts with the blue of his eyes, and it makes Dean’s throat dry.

Dean averts his eyes, “I sometimes wonder if it was the right move, you know. Grad school. It was a selfish decision. I worry it’ll turn out to be a waste of money if it means Sam won’t get to complete law school.”

“Don’t you think he’ll get financial aids?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah,” Dean gestures to nothing, “But we don’t know anything for sure. It’d suck if I was doing this at the expense of Sam’s future.”

Castiel chews his food and swallows, “Shouldn’t you get to have a future?”

Dean shrugs and looks down at his plate, “I could’ve just been a mechanic. Like I was supposed to.”

“But you enjoy academia and you happen to have the opportunity. Why not worry about Sam when and if you have to worry about Sam?” Castiel asks and Dean knows he’s trying to be helpful. It sucks.

“It’s just that Sam’s the smart one. I’m not really supposed to be here… I don’t deserve it,” Dean says without thinking.

Castiel frowns, “Don’t deserv-“

Dean cuts him off, “I just mean I don’t deserve it like Sam do. He's worked for this shit his whole life. You know, he’ll do great things. I’ve only gotten this far because no one has seen through my bullshit yet.”

“I have to disagree with you, Dean. I know I haven’t known you long but from what I see, you are one of the most deserving people I’ve met. Not only do you excel in academia but also you help those around you do the same. I’ve seen you with your friends, at the coffee shop and the library. You motivate them. You motivate _me_. And you motivate Sam. I don’t know your history but something tells me Sam wouldn’t be where he is if it wasn’t for you.” Castiel says in earnest and it should have been too much. Would have too. 

But something about the way Cas says it makes the scoff that normally would have come out of Dean disappear, makes him think about those words. Because Dean has worked hard to get Sam to where he is and he still works hard to get him where he needs to go. Has made a lot of compromises at his own expense. It’s his life work. Maybe he just feels bad because he’s prioritizing things for himself too. Like a degree. 

Dean feels better with Cas’ words but they are too heavy and he can’t have this conversation. “Gee Cas, you certainly know how to make a guy blush,” he says instead, smirking.

Castiel is actually the one to blush then, “Sorry. I’m just… I’m glad I met you, Dean. I don’t make friends easily.”

“Friends, eh? Maybe they get mixed signals if you take them all out to nice restaurants like this one,” Dean keeps smirking. Castiel blushes deeper.

“Or not _friends_ per se, but, uhh…”

Dean takes mercy on him, “Cas, don’t sweat it. I’m just kidding. I’m glad I met you too. Even more glad you even wanted to talk to me considering the way we met.”

They chuckle, eyes meeting over the table. Castiel doesn’t reply for a while and they eat in silence. Dean wonders if he shouldn’t have brought it up. He knows Cas isn't too comfortable with his own position.

“I’ve never been recognized before, you know,” Cas says then and chuckles again. Dean figures he’s not mad and wonders when he started worrying about shit he didn’t need to worry about. 

Dean smiles back, “Really? But you’re huge.”

He realizes his mistake when Cas goes red again, his fork hanging mid-air between his plate and his mouth, “Uhm.”

Dean feels heat color his cheeks to match Cas’, “Oh my god, no, that’s not what I meant!” he wouldn’t bring Cas’ package up in the middle of dinner. Or anywhere. (But it is huge). “Fuck, I just meant you’ve done a lot of stuff. Or, like, your videos are popular, right?”

“Oh,” Cas clears his throat, “Uh, yes, I suppose.”

“God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that. This is awkward, I really didn’t mean anything by it,” Dean apologizes. He gets chills down his spine, worrying that Cas will be upset.

“It’s okay,” Castiel says to his plate and then musters courage to look up at Dean, “Do you… Have you seen a lot of my videos?”

Dean almost feels like he’s going to have a panic attack and he has no idea why. He used to watch Carmen’s stuff _with_ Carmen for fuck’s sake, why is this so different? 

Maybe it’s because this, with Cas, is moving so damn slow and feels so damn important. Ever since he met him he’s felt like watching his stuff is disrespectful, and he can’t find a reason as to why he feels this way. Castiel knew from the very beginning that Dean knew about the porn. Knew enough about it enough to recognize him. If that bothered him, he probably wouldn’t have pursued a… friendship or whatever with Dean. Despite really wanting to deny everything, Dean is honest.

“I’ve seen a lot of it,” he looks down at his hands “you were my favorite, you know.” He swallows and looks up at Cas, meeting his eyes, “But I don’t watch it anymore, Cas. I haven’t since I got to know you.”

Castiel nods but doesn’t say anything.

“Are you mad?” Dean asks.

Castiel raises his eyebrows, “No! No, Dean, how could I be? I’ve known since I met you.” He licks his lips, “But I am glad you don’t watch it anymore. I was uncertain if you still did and I’m afraid the thought made me uneasy.”

“No, no, I don’t,” Dean waves his hands to indicate he doesn’t at all, “Jimmy is, like, a different person. It’s you, Cas, that I…” he trails off, not prepared to say it, “Well, I just… I prefer you.”

Castiel bites his lip around a smile. “Well, Dean, if you had a porn persona, I’d still prefer you, too.”

That makes Dean burst out in laughter and Castiel is quick to join in.

The mood is a lot lighter after that. Their plates are cleared and they skip dessert in favor of another round of beer. And another one. Dean’s friends aren’t going to be there till 9 anyway. 

“No, I seriously thought there were more letters! I told my sister no _way_ were 26 letters enough to form so many words. Those letters had just been picked out to be in the alphabet,” Castiel shares. 

Dean folds over laughing, “You convinced your sister of this?”

Castiel is laughing too, “Yeah. I believed it until third grade, which is when she was the one to tell me that wasn’t true.” Dean keeps laughing. “She was the one who told me Santa wasn’t real too.”

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, “And was this third grade too?”

“More like fifth.”

Dean cracks up anew, “Not the brightest kid in your class, were you?”

Castiel chuckles and shakes his head but doesn’t really reply. Before anyone can say anything the waitress appears at their table.

“I’m terribly sorry, guys, but we have to give up your table in fifteen minutes. There’s a reservation for it at 9.”

“Right, of course. We’ll get outta here,” Dean says, making to get up right away.

“No, no,” the waitress waves him down, “Finish your beer. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says and then she disappears.

The two men look at each other.

“What then?” Castiel asks.

Dean knows they should head home. People are probably arriving. But Sam is there, and everyone there knows each other. He’s not ready to share Cas just yet.

“Wanna walk around for a while? We could get a beer somewhere or something?” he suggests.

Castiel nods, “Yes, that sounds like good idea.”

\----

 

It’s 10pm by the time they get back to Dean’s apartment and Dean has ten unread messages and three missed calls. It wasn’t that he was ignoring them, okay? He was just spending time with Cas, and he knew he was going to see everyone later.

They’re tipsy on the beers and a shared bottle of wine they drank from Dixie cups in the local park while holding hands, and they keep giggling as they make their way up to the Winchester apartment on third floor, still grabbing each other’s hands and bumping into each other. 

Dean stops when he gets in front of the door. He can hear music playing from the other side so he guesses everyone is here and everyone has started. Castiel bumps into him from behind and Dean turns around to face a giggling Cas. Dean grins and hold a finger in front of his lips, “Sssch.”

Castiel folds his hand around Dean’s hand and pulls it away from his face. He takes a step closer and Dean’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“I think everyone is already here,” Dean says. 

Castiel just nods, eyes searching his face. The light in the hall goes out because they haven’t flicked the switch or moved in thirty seconds time.

“We should go inside,” Dean points out.

“Give me a minute,” Cas whispers, his breath mingling with Dean’s. The scent of red wine, Cas’ deodorant and fresh air from outside goes to Dean’s head and he drops his gaze to Cas’ lips.

Cas’ tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip and then they smirk. Dean meets his eyes again, and they’re sparkling in the moonlight from outside in the otherwise unlit hall. 

“I should kiss you,” Cas says.

Dean swallows then nods, “Yeah.”

Castiel moves closer yet, one hand pulling Dean to him by his waist, the other still holding Dean’s between their chests. Dean grabs Cas’ bicep. Cas moves slowly toward him and Dean is too busy taking it all in; the lashes fanning out on his cheekbones, the blush on his cheeks from the cold outside, his lips pursing to kiss him. Then he gets with the program and closes his eyes as their lips meet, softly at first. 

They lean back slightly, making eye contact for a second before kissing again, more forcefully and Cas lets go of Dean’s hand to hold his jaw instead and he pushes him backwards until Dean’s back connects with his front door. 

It makes a bumping noise and even though the music is loud it’s enough to announce their arrival because next thing Dean nearly falls flat on his back if Jo hadn’t caught him when she opened the door.

“Fucking finally!” Someone inside says.

Dean regains equilibrium fast enough, “Jo! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!”

She hits him in the shoulder, “Well, if you’d cared to check your phone in the last three hours, you would have.”

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles, rubbing his shoulder that’s sure to bruise.

Jo smiles sweetly, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I heard you had a big date,” she looks at Cas who looks down at his hands.

Dean wants to hit her back, “Shut up.” He steps further into the apartment and motions for Cas to come in as well. Everyone is there.

“Dean! There you are. What did you guys get up to for so long?” Sam asks from where he sitting on the couch.

Dean shrugs, trying to play it nonchalant, “We just had dinner. How long have you guys been drinking?” There are empty solo cups and beer cans on the coffee table. 

Charlie holds up a finger, “Nah! Nah-ah, Dean, nice try. You haven’t had dinner for _four hours_!”

Dean rolls his eyes, “We walked around for a bit, okay? We’re here now, can we just let it go.” He makes his way over to where they're all seated in the middle of the living room and pulls Castiel forward, “This is Cas, everyone.”

“Hi Cas,” everyone says like this is some fucked up anonymous meeting.

Dean makes a quick introduction of his friends that he’s sure Castiel won’t remember much of, and then sits down on the couch. Cas sits down next to him. He is soon engaged in conversation about microbiology and Wikipedia by Benny and Charlie.

Dean is busy smiling at the interaction when Sam taps his arm, “Have you heard from dad?” he says it quietly, letting the music drown out the question to anyone but Dean.

Dean scoffs, “Please, Sam.”

“Right. Bobby just said he’d been by last weekend,” Sam tells him.

“Hm,” Dean grabs a beer from the coffee table, “That’s funny. I spoke to Bobby just a few hours ago. He didn’t mention dad.”

Sam looks down. Dean is pretty sure he has something important to say but Dean doesn’t want to hear it. He wants to get drunk.

And he does. They make it out to a bar an hour later and Dean wants to spend most of the night with Cas, but he’s being detained by first Charlie and Benny, then Aaron and Carmen (Dean almost has a heart attack) and then Sam. He does shots with Jo instead and doesn’t realize till next morning that he’s too old for that now.

At least he wakes up next to Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been loving your guys' feedback, it really means the world for my motivation! I wouldn't be here without it :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little less fluffy...

Waking up next to Cas a second time is just as good as the first time. Still as hot too. And Dean would really appreciate Cas lying half on top of him in only boxers more than he does at the moment, if he wasn’t seconds away for vomiting Fireball all over his bed.

He makes it to the bathroom in time.

He doesn’t dare take a look in the mirror as he brushes his teeth. His head is pounding and when he makes his way back into the living room he is certain there are two Jos eating cereal on the pullout couch.

“Good morning,” she says way too loudly and Dean groans. 

Sam walks in with his own bowl of cereal, “'morning Dean.” 

Dean walks over and sits down next to Jo, “What time did you get home?” he’s disappointed because he’s clearly more hung-over but he was the first to leave.

Jo shrugs. 

“I hate 21-year olds,” Dean mumbles under his breath and Jo laughs too fucking shrilly for his fragile head.

Sam asks if Castiel is still there and Jo hits Dean’s arm, “Dude!” she whisper-yells, “Can we talk about the fact that you’re dating a _porn star_?!”

Dean rolls his eyes, which hurts him enough that he has to get up to get his glasses from the bathroom, “We're not dating," he mumbles, and then looks at Sam, "Did we talk about the porn star thing last night?”

Sam spills some fruity pebbles down his shirt, “To be fair he was the one who brought it up. In a roundabout way.”

“’Roundabout way’” Dean mocks, air quotes and all, because there’s no way he trusts his nosy friends to not bring it up after going to a club where it’s three jägerbombs for a tenner. 

“He knew Carmen. From some convention or something, I’m not sure,” Sam explains.

Dean groans, “So now everyone knows?”

Sam points a finger at Dean, “Everyone already knew. Now he just knows that everybody knows.”

“Whatever. How long are you staying, Jo?” Dean asks.

“I’m leaving today, around 5. I have to get back to school,” she tells him.

“Wake me up when you need a ride,” Dean makes his way back to his bedroom and a snoring Cas.

\----

 

At 5pm Dean drives Jo to the train station and Cas back home to his apartment. Castiel doesn’t kiss him, he barely even says one word to him and Dean feels like vomiting again. He nearly flips his shit at a stop light on his way back home because he has wasted two days of proposal writing on fucking drinking. 

He has a double at the coffee house the next day because he has to pay rent somehow and he apparently looks stressed enough that even _Crowley_ asks if he’s okay. Dean spends his lunch break refining his proposal disposition and writing in the margins of library books.

That is until he remembers the library will fine him for that and he can’t afford a single unforeseen expense.

When he gets home he spends five hours writing and reading, and doesn’t make it to bed until 4am. 

At 5am John fucking Winchester decides to remember that his eldest son was born sometime in January. It’s not the ideal time of day to have a screaming match over the phone but at least Sam isn’t spending the night at home.

Dean spends the rest of the morning pacing the living room floor and checking bank statements until he has to leave for an 8am class.

\-----

 

It’s not good. Dean’s fully aware of that. But he can’t afford a break and he can’t afford to skip caffeine either, so instead he cancels the digital art exhibition he’d promised to accompany Charlie to and he doesn’t even reply to Benny’s texts about library meet-ups or ‘I hate school’ beers. 

It’s hard to ignore the Sasquatch that lives in his house though.

“You need to get out, Dean. You haven’t been anywhere but the apartment or the coffee house in a week,” Sam is sitting on the edge of the table and it really grinds Dean’s gears.

“Can you _not_ sit on the fucking table where all my fucking notes are?” He asks through gritted teeth and a tension headache.

Sam, who is usually not one to shy away from the Annoying Little Brother role, stands up and sits on Dean’s bed instead, “What’s going on? Why are you this stressed out? You’re not even behind.”

Dean doesn’t reply.

“Did dad call?”

Dean snaps his laptop closed, closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose.

“What did he say?” Sam asks.

“Oh, he just wanted to point out everything I’m doing wrong with my life. You know, how I’m so selfish for going to school when school is your thing and I can just fix cars for Bobby. And how I’m disrespecting Mom for being ‘gay’, and how I’m a shitty fucking son for not supporting my dad when he’s going through a ‘rough patch’ even though _he_ took a loan of 15,000 fucking dollars in _my_ name and didn’t even tell me.” Dean wants to break something. Or maybe just have a breakdown.

Sam doesn’t say anything because he knows from all the other times that Dean will yell no matter how he tries to help.

Dean looks at him before looking out the window, chewing one finger nail as he reigns back his temper, “So yeah, nothing new.” He always ends up feeling a thousand times shittier when he takes it out on Sam.

“I’m sorry,” Sam offers, probably to test the waters.

Dean just shrugs.

“I know this is a terrible thing to say about family, but I wish he’d just leave us alone,” Sam mutters. Part of Dean almost wants to tell Sam off for saying that about Dad. He figures that’s a testament to their father’s great skill at manipulation.

“Well, if we didn’t have him how would I know I’m not worth shit? Not like he’s been drilling it into my brain for twenty six fucking years,” Dean mumbles. He must be close to his breaking point to be spewing this emotional bullshit.

Sam adjusts his position on Dean’s bed awkwardly because Dean is apparently a wounded animal, “You know that’s not true, right?” Sam asks quietly, “You know he was just sick. _Is_ sick. It’s not you.”

Dean doesn’t say anything.

Sam stands up, “Do you want to take a study break? I can make hot cocoa and we could watch some Munchies?”

Incredible. It used to be Dean taking care of Sam with tomato rice soup and Dexter’s Laboratory. It’s the circle of life and apparently Dean peaked when he was thirteen. Dean accepts.

An episode of Munchies somehow turns into a Harrison Ford marathon and Dean really shouldn’t be wasting time like this, but he does feel a little better.

But then Sam asks about Cas because Dean spilling one thing apparently means they’re turning this into a chick flick. Might as well put on The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

But Sam doesn’t even mean it like that. He just nudges Dean in the ribs with his elbow and smirks, “So… Couldn’t help but notice Cas spent the night again after your birthday…”

Dean doesn’t want to think about it. He has done a terrific job of not thinking about it since it happened. Or since it _didn’t_ happen. Cas had been content with making out at any chance at the bar as well as all the way home in the Uber, and then they’d both had too much to drink and gone straight to sleep once they’d gotten home. And that had been fine. If it hadn’t been paired with the blatant rejection the next day. 

Castiel had all but ignored Dean in favor of Sam and Jo during the day, and when Dean had driven him home later in the afternoon, he’d warmed up a little, and Dean had figured that Cas had just been shy in front of Dean’s family. 

Then he’d walked him up to his apartment and Cas hadn’t wanted to hold his hand, had actually pushed it away. Neither had said anything. Then when Dean tried to kiss him after thanking him for the night before, Castiel had just turned around, unlocked his door and left. Dean had never felt like a bigger loser. Except maybe that one time Cassie sent that picture of him in her underwear around the school. Great times. That had been so fun when the picture reached his dad.

“Yeah,” is what Dean just says to Sam.

“Are you guys… Like, did you seal the deal or whatever?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Thought you didn’t want details, bitch.”

“I don’t, jerk. I just know you’re really into him and, I don’t know, had a hard time reading him. Just… Did you figure out where you stand?” Sam shrugs.

Dean leans back and puts an elbow on the armrest, facing Sam instead of the TV, “No. I’ve got no fucking clue. I could actually really use your advice, you date complicated girls, right?”

Sam back-pedals, “Uhh, I don’t know him that well, Dean.”

“Yeah, but still. The facts are he fucks for a living and I _know_ he’s into me. And still?” he gestures to nothing, “He’s giving me nothing. It’s one step forward and three fucking steps back with him.”

Sam sighs, knowing that Dean exaggerates because he’s frustrated, “Maybe he just wants to wait before he gets intimate with someone?” he suggests.

“Dude’s had two dicks in his ass at the same time. I don’t think he’s a prude,” Dean argues.

“No, not a prude. Just… You know, _because_ he does porn he might be more hesitant to be with people in ‘real life’ or whatever. Like, maybe he doesn’t want people to fuck him just to say they’ve fucked a porn star,” he gives Dean a pointed look because that’s what he did with Carmen. 

“Oh, come on. I think Cas knows it’s not like that.” He hopes so. He thinks he’s made it pretty clear.

“Maybe he’s used to people not wanting to be intimate with him in a genuine way. You know, because ‘he’s just a porn star’ or whatever?” Sam says.

“Like because he does porn he doesn’t deserve a real relationship?” The idea seems insane to Dean.

Sam nods.

Dean grimaces, “But he should know it’s not like that. We’ve… Talked about it. A little,” Sam gives him an incredulous look, because Dean? Talking about emotions? “Shut up, Sam. I’m just saying, he knows I don’t see him as Jimmy or Cas, the porn guy, or anything like that.”

“Well, you did just point out that he ‘fucks for a living’, like he somehow owes you for doing it professionally,” Sam says and Dean groans.

“Yeah, okay, I hear how that sounds, but I don’t mean he owes me. It’s not about the porn at all. I just don’t get him.” He mumbles. He feels like a fucking douche now. 

Sam doesn’t reply so Dean goes on: “He kissed me. After we had dinner and at the party. And the next day he barely even looked at me. Like yeah, I need to get laid but that’s not my issue with Cas. I just want to know what the fuck we’re doing.” Dean feels a little like a bitch for complaining about lack of communication. 

Sam runs a hand through his hair while he contemplates, “You want my advice?” Dean nods. “Just ask him, dude.”

Dean thinks that that’s some taunting fucking advice.

 

\-----

 

Dean doesn’t actually intend to bring up their relationship until he’s a little less stressed about theses and due dates. He figures he can still hang out with Cas until he’s ready to talk about it though.

They meet up at the library nearly two weeks after his birthday on a Thursday afternoon; laptops open in front of them and coffee mugs long empty. Dean is wearing his glasses since he’s already outed himself to Cas, and Cas actually has his hair in a tiny ponytail because he worked out this morning, and it’s making Dean very frustrated. (Mostly at himself for being into gay shit like that).

They don’t talk much beyond grammar questions and offers of getting more coffee, but the silence between them isn’t unbearable. It’s enough that Dean even forgets to worry about the two of them and manages to focus solely on his thesis work for the day.

If only the obnoxious undergrads one aisle over would fucking let him. He’s read the same sentence seven times now and still hasn’t understood a word, because ‘Claire’ and ‘Alex’ are too busy going over the details of last weekend’s frat party. Very loudly.

The librarian comes to the rescue and shushes them, and Dean makes it all the way through the page before the girls burst into another fit of giggles. Dean is going to explode.

He pushes away from the table, his chair legs scraping against the floor, and presses his hands against his head in frustration, “God! I’m going to lose my fucking shit,” he groans.

Cas looks up over the top of his laptop, “You need a break?”

“I need fucking silence! How can you work in these circumstances?” he scowls at the bookshelf next to him, which he knows hides the offending girls.

Castiel looks at it too, like he’s first realizing where he is and that there are others around him, and tilts his head, “We can go somewhere else?”

“Where?” Dean spats, “We can’t go to the reading rooms because they’re all booked and Sam has filled our apartment with exchange students for fucking International Night. Where the fuck do you suggest we go?”

Castiel doesn’t even flinch and Dean is grateful. He’s behaving like a real prick. “We can go back to mine?”

Dean stops his tantrum to consider. He’s never been back to Cas’ place, and lord knows he’s been dying to. He’d hoped that it would’ve been under better circumstances than these but he’ll take what he can get.

“Uhm, yeah. If you’re sure,” he tells Cas, because there must be a reason he hasn’t been invited inside before.

“Yes, of course. I have the space and my neighbors are all well-behaved,” Castiel grins, and Dean wonders if the weird vibe between them is something he has imagined. 

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Dean smiles back and closes his laptop.

 

They make their way to Cas’ apartment complex on foot, and to preserve the tradition from the library they don’t talk. Dean’s not sure if it’s _them_ or if they’re just two grad students close to the next due date. 

They make it to the building and take the elevator up to Cas’ apartment on third floor, and as Dean stands behind Cas while he unlocks his door, Dean revels in the fact that this is the farthest he’s ever been before. It somehow means something to Dean, but he figures he might be setting himself up for a letdown.

It’s a lot nicer than Sam and Dean’s place. Bigger too. Castiel takes Dean’s jacket to put in the coat closet, and Dean barely notices, too busy taking in his surroundings. 

The apartment opens directly into a large living room, with shiny dark wooden floors and a really soft looking rug under the six people sectional couch and surprisingly outdated TV. There’s a really impressive wall of bookshelves and Dean thinks _nerd_ fondly before he can even try to stop himself. Dean doesn’t know if Castiel comes from money or if this is all attributed to porn. 

There are three closed door and an open archway leading to a stainless steel kitchen from what Dean can see.

“Do you want anything to drink? A snack?” Castiel asks, taking on an awkward host-role, and Dean gets the notion that maybe Dean hasn’t been invited over before simply because Cas doesn’t invite people over.

“I’m good,” Dean says and makes his way to the couch with his book bag and laptop. He refrains from putting his socked feet up on the coffee table, “Or, actually do you have coffee?”

Castiel takes his books and laptop out of his bag and brings them to the couch where he puts them down, “Of course I have coffee,” he smirks at Dean and Dean smiles back at him. Cas leaves for the kitchen.

Dean starts getting set up, only to realize that he’s missing two sheets from a compendium he just spent a fortune printing. He knows for sure he had the whole thing at the library. He runs his fingers through the part of the compendium he has with him, hoping to find the missing pages only misplaced, but no. The pages are safely stapled together. Dean groans and starts pulling things out of his bag. Why would he have left two sheets at the library? Surely he would have noticed them lying on the table when they left? But they’re not between his books or stuck in his closed laptop, they’re not folded up in his pocket either, and Dean’s running out of places to look. 

Dean has one shoe on and his bag upturned in one hand when Castiel comes back with two mugs of steaming coffee.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks, coming to a halt in the kitchen archway.

Dean looks up at Cas, red-faced no doubt, and breathing heavily, “Huh? No! Fuck, I fucking forgot half my shitty compendium at the fucking library!”

Castiel makes way to the couch and puts the coffees down on the table. He puts his hands out to still Dean, because he’s apparently still a wounded animal, “Wait a second, Dean. This is the Biochemistry compendium you printed earlier today, right?”

“Yes, Cas, that’s right, and I really need to go and fucking get it,” he fiddles with his shoelaces. Castiel says something that Dean doesn’t hear because since when is tying your shoelaces so fucking difficult?! He pulls at them but only succeeds in tightening a knot on one of them.

Castiel silently makes his way over to Dean and squats down next to him to put his hands over Dean’s, “Dean,” he says quietly.

Dean sighs and looks up at him. He doesn’t have time for this.

“It’s the biochemistry nomenclature compendium?” 

“Yes, Cas, it is. And I can’t afford to print a new one and I can’t afford the PDF either so I need to go get it before someone thinks to throw it away.”

“I have them. You forgot them because they weren’t stapled to the rest of the papers, so I just put them in my bag. I have them right here,” he pulls his bag that he left by the door closer to him and procures two sheets of paper that sure enough are Dean’s missing pieces.

“Oh,” Dean lets go of his shoelaces to accept the papers, “Right, thanks,” he says feeling very small. 

Castiel stands back up, “You’re welcome,” he says with a smile like Dean didn’t just totally embarrass himself by throwing a bitch fit over two sheets of paper.

Dean takes his shoes off again and they make themselves comfortable on the couch. Neither says anything and Dean really wants to apologize but he doesn’t know where to begin. He wonders what Cas must think of him now.

He gets engulfed in the thesis work soon enough, and makes it 655 words before he feels like throwing his laptop across the room again.

Castiel must be able to tell, because he looks up from his laptop and asks, “Are you sure you’re doing okay?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “It’s just thesis work, Cas.”

“No, I know, I just mean… Generally? Lately?”

Dean lifts an eyebrow.

Castiel shrugs, looking apologetic, “You just seem… off, I suppose. Yeah, you’ve seemed off for a while.”

Dean licks his lips. He’s sick of these fucking heart-to-hearts. He’s been ignoring his own friends to avoid them, for christ’s sake. “I’m not ‘off’, okay?” he mocks, “I’m stressed out. I’m fucking stressed out about all this thesis and proposal shit, and working every shift I can on top of it, and I’m fucking exhausted!” he instantly feels bad for speaking that way to Cas, but did he really have to ask? It just makes it worse when people acknowledge it.

“Maybe you should take a break?” Castiel suggests while shutting his laptop to give Dean his full attention.

Dean just scoffs.

“Look, Dean, I’m working next to my grad school load too. I know it’s hard. I’m just saying maybe work a few less hours for a little while? Just until you’re on top of things again,” he suggests, sounding rational and like he cares and like he has any fucking clue. Dean makes about $8 an hour. He wonders what Castiel makes a film.

He doesn’t want to fight but he’s fucking bitter. He shouldn’t say anything, and really, what he does say is only a fraction of the shit he could have spewed.

“Yeah. At least your job gets you off.”

He knows he has fucked up before the last word has left his mouth, and he doesn’t dare meet Castiel’s eyes.

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?” Castiel asks, tone bitter.

Dean can’t deal with a fight; he just wants everything to go away. He wishes Cas had never asked if he was okay. “Nothing, okay Cas? Relax.”

Castiel sounds calm but still bitter, and so offended that Dean feels sick with himself, “Don’t just tell me to relax, Dean.”

Dean starts reaching for his things to pack up, “Fine. Sorry. Look, I need to go,” he zips his bag and starts to get up.

“Yes, I think you need to.” There’s venom in his voice then, and Dean is surprised the _asshole_ that belonged at the end of that sentence remained unspoken. He pulls his shoes on, stuffing the shoelaces into them. He turns and looks at Cas, who is glaring at him without blinking.

“Cas…” he says softly, just before reaching for the door. He wants to apologize. God, he doesn’t want it to be like this. To end like this.

“I will give you a call when I feel like talking to you again.” He continues glaring and Dean’s hands are shaking now. 

He leaves, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He presses the elevator button with numb hands. As he waits for it tensions creeps from his shoulders down his spine, and he feels like his stomach has dropped from his gut. The elevator arrives and he’s lucky it’s empty because he’s only allowed to feel the hotness behind his eyes in the minute and a half it takes to reach the ground floor.

It’s not until he gets outside he realizes Castiel still has his jacket hung up in his closet, and that John has probably always been right about Dean. Everyone is better off without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is life <3


	8. Chapter 8

“Squirrel! Could you at least make an attempt at smiling at your customers? Your application promised you were good with people.” Crowley asks when the shop is empty once again after the morning rush.

Dean lifts his lips up into a smile but Crowley just grimaces.

“Well, that won’t get you any tips, princess,” Crowley states and makes himself an espresso, “Lighten up, you have to sell the muffins, they’re only good till today.” And then he disappears into the staff room.

Dean groans and leans his elbows on the desk. Charlie is coming soon and he can’t wait because he doesn’t have the energy for this and Charlie is usually pretty good at carrying him.

He hasn’t talked to Cas in six days and he hasn’t told anyone about the fight. He knows he’s the asshole in this so what’s the point? He just has to wait until Castiel is ready to hear an apology. If that time ever comes.

God, he’s such a dickhead.

Sam had asked if he was okay so many times Dean had almost had to break something, and then he’d asked if it was the money thing. That had only reminded Dean that is was that, too. It had been tight the past few months, but the loan he was paying off seemed to never end, and they constantly had to buy more, ridiculously expensive textbooks for school and Sam’s law school starts after summer, and it’s getting critical now, and Dean has no idea what to do. 

He can’t pick up more hours; he simply doesn’t have the time. Sam can’t pick up more hours at the bookstore either because he’s prone to stress. He’d feel bad for asking Bobby again, but that is an option. He’s just trying to think of a different solution first. 

He’d toyed with the idea of an extra job. One with longer shifts instead of the coffee shop, or a night job. He’d even, for a second, contemplated doing porn, since Cas and Carmen were both the richest college students he knew. He had quickly discarded of the idea tough; he wasn’t cut for a profession in the sex industry. He knew that from the time John had been missing for a whole year and Dean had been sixteen turning seventeen and couldn’t feed Sam. But he doesn’t think about that shit, he’d promised himself that, he’d promised he’d forget all about it.

But there it is, the worst year of his life and the memories come flooding back until his legs feel weak under him and his breath is coming in shallow puffs, and he’s forgotten where he is until Charlie puts a hand over his, eyes wide with worry when Dean looks into them.

“Hey! Dean, hey, are you okay?” she asks. She still wearing her parka and bag, headphone wrapped around her neck.

Dean swallows around a lump in his throat and smiles a tip-earning smile, “Fine.”

Charlie frowns, “Are you sure? You looked like were having a-“

“I’m fine,” he pushes away from the counter to grab a cloth and wipe down the espresso machine, “Totally fine. I just spaced out because there’s been nothing to do.”

She still looks unconvinced but she backs off, “Okay… I’m gonna go get changed then.”

When she comes back out Dean excuses himself to go to the restroom and sits in there for fifteen minutes trying to calm down and do his fucking job until Charlie comes knocking on the door to ask: “You okay in there?”

He promises to be right out.

They spend the next hour and a half being too busy to talk but when the lunchtime rush dies down and they’re left with a few patrons scattered at the tables, Charlie turns to him.

“What’s going on with you?”

Dean shrugs, “What are you talking about?”

She gives him an incredulous look, “You’ve been avoiding everyone and you just had a panic attack or something in the middle of work. Don’t try to tell me that you’re fine, Dean.”

He shakes his head, “It wasn’t a panic attack. And I’ve just been a little stressed lately. It’s really not a big deal.”

“’A little stressed’? Come on, Dean,” she makes air quotes and Dean’s heart hurts.

“Okay, a lot stressed!” he snaps, “What do you want me to say?”

They’re interrupted by a high school clique wanting frappes with soymilk and pumps of vanilla and did they have non-fat whipped cream?

When they leave Charlie turns to him and looks at him with kindness and Dean doesn’t deserve to have her as a friend, “What are you stressing out about? School?”

Dean sighs, slumping against the counter and runs a hand over his face, “Yeah, school. Work, Cas. It’s everything. Money.”

Charlie knits her eyebrows, “Cas? I thought you two were doing great? Looked pretty cozy at your birthday.”

Dean runs his tongue over his teeth, “It’s not Cas, I’m not stressed about him, it’s… We got into a fight a few days ago, I guess I’m just kinda worried about it.”

She tips her head to the side, “What did you fight about? Are you gonna be okay?”

“I was just an asshole. And I don’t know if he wants to talk to me again. He said he’d call.” Dean shrugs like he isn’t losing sleep over this.

“Hm,” Charlie says and is then quiet for a bit. “Dean, you should talk to Crowley about maybe working a little less hours. If you’re really stressed out.”

Dean pushes off the counter and grabs the broom to sweep up coffee grounds from the floor behind the counter for something to do, “I can’t.”

“Why?” she stands right next to him and he turns to look at her.

“I’m too broke.”

“Worse than usual?” she leans a hand on the counter and Dean can’t believe Crowley hasn’t told them off for talking yet. Maybe he left.

“Yeah, kinda,” he twirls the broom absentmindedly between his hands, “I’ve thought about quitting school.”

“What?!” she looks towards the staff room to make sure Crowley didn’t hear her outburst, “Dean!” she whispers.

He toys with the broom handle, “I could work full time, make more money. Sam could go to law school, and then maybe, when the loan is paid off, I can come back and finish.”

Charlie’s shoulders fall. For someone who wasn't a part of it, Charlie knows Dean’s history like very few. “You can’t quit school, Dean. You’ll be done in a few months.”

“In a few months we might be on the street.”

Charlie frowns again, “Have you talked to Bobby?”

Dean shakes his head, “I haven’t talked to him about it yet. I’ve borrowed so much money from him already.”

“God, Dean you’re so stupid sometimes,” Charlie groans.

Before Dean can reply Crowley has finally had enough, “Get back to work, girlfriends!”

 

\-----

 

“You sure you’re alright? I feel bad leaving when you’re just moping around at home,” Sam says, and it doesn’t even sound condescending. Dean still glares at him and his already-packed duffel bag. 

“Shut the fuck up, Moose. I’m not moping. Just go!” He says from his spot on the couch.

Sam looks painfully conflicted, “Promise you’ll eat. And sleep.”

Dean gives a long-suffering sigh, “I will throw something at you if you don’t leave. Aren’t you supposed to meet Eileen now anyway?”

Sam checks the time on his phone, “I do kinda have to get going, but Dean… You’re sure you’re okay by yourself?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Why are you so worried?”

Sam shrugs, “I don’t know, ‘cause you’re self-destructive,” he says with sarcasm.

“Wow, okay, way to make me sound like a fifteen year old emo kid,” Dean replies defensively.

Sam’s shoulders fall, “Promise me you’ll talk to Charlie or Benny if you get… lonely, okay? And you can call me anytime,” he says it like he’d wanted to use another word than lonely. Like ‘bad’, or ‘destructive’ or ‘like dad’, which is a combination of the two.

“Yes, Sam,” Dean groans, “I promise I’ll have a therapist on speed-dial and a suicide chat room open at all times in the four days you’re gone. Just go, you’ll miss the bus.”

Sam picks up his bags, “Okay, I really do have to go. But I’m just trying to help. I hate seeing you like this.”

Dean doesn’t reply. He must be worse off than he realizes, but of course, lying to himself is only one of his many talents. “Have fun in Atlanta, Sammy. Say hi to Eileen.”

 

\----

 

Dean thought a weekend to himself with peace and quiet was what he needed. He has a bunch of schoolwork, but he always does and he actually feels pretty caught up, and he only has two shifts in the three and a half days Sam is gone.

On Thursday night Dean puts on Every Which Way But Loose because he can only watch it when Sam is gone, and does thesis work while it plays in the background. He also spends a few hours staring at his account balance after the movie has ended, but goes to bed at 2am pretending that he didn’t.

Friday starts out okay; he works morning and lunch with Meg and it’s not terrible, but then a dark-haired blue-eyed guy in a dorky sweater buys a cappuccino and Dean has to hide in the bathroom for fifteen minutes.

When Dean gets his break he notices a missed call from John and one from Bobby, and when he returns from break Meg says he’s so pale that he should go home and let her cover for him because she’s worried he’ll be sick all over the baked goods display. 

He gets home and turns on the light and music and even the TV but it doesn’t make him feel any less lonely. He works on his comp exam and sends an email to Cain that he knows he won’t get a reply to before he sees him next week anyway.

It gets dark outside and Dean puts his work away and wanders to the kitchen, already suspecting he’s not going to cook. He eats some cereal straight out of the box and stares at the four cans of beer in the fridge for a couple of minutes. He closes the fridge again, deciding that drinking when he’s feeling like this is too John Winchester and damn it, Dean is not going to be like that.

He’s feeling restless so he sorts their DVD’s after genre and alphabetical order, and then Bobby calls again.

“Hi Bobby,” Dean says and finds himself in Sam’s room, sitting on his bed, for some reason.

“Hey kid, how are ya doin’?” Bobby says, voice gruff. Dean can almost see him sitting at his desk, feet propped up on the table and a beer in his hand. Trucker cap dirty and firmly in its place. He feels a little better.

Dean shrugs and Bobby doesn’t wait for a reply anyway, “You heard from your old man?”

“He called today but I missed it.”

“Figured he might’ve,” Bobby says.

“You heard from him?” Dean can’t believe it. Bobby probably hates John more than Dean does.

(Because Dean could never hate him).

(But apparently, neither could Bobby).

“He dropped by,” there’s some rustling on his end, like Bobby’s shifting his position.

“Did hell freeze over? What the fuck was he doing there?” Dean asks. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Bobby talks quietly then, “He was talking about rehab again. He got into some real trouble and I guess it left him real scared. Then he got a call about a job in Boston and left.”

Dean tastes bile in the back of his throat, “Well, good for him.” Here we go again.

“We should try talking to him,” he says, like John is someone you can talk to.

“Oh, okay. Well, if he hadn’t taken a loan of $15,000 that I’m trying to pay off while going to grad school, I’m sure I would’ve been able to afford a trip up there and rehab and whatever shit he needs.” He mocks and he feels bad, because Bobby’s going to mock him for bitching and it’s not Bobby who deserves the attitude from Dean anyway.

The telling off from Bobby doesn’t come though. There’s silence between them for a beat before Bobby asks, “You in financial trouble, son?”

Dean’s throat constricts and he’s not sure if he wants to vomit or cry. He was going to fix it himself. “I always am.”

Bobby scoffs, “Is it worse than usual?”

Dean’s hesitation to reply is enough of an answer.

“Why haven’t you said anything, ya idjit. You know you can always come to me. I watch out for you boys. Me and Ellen both.” Bobby doesn’t even sound disappointed and Dean’s chest warms with affection. He owes Bobby and Ellen everything.

“I’ve been trying to find a solution. I didn’t wanna ask you _again_ ,” Dean rubs his hand over his eyes.

“How’s that been going? Sam says you’re not doing too good,” Bobby tells him and Dean feels a spite of anger. He hates when they discuss him behind his back.

“It’s fine, Bobby. I’ve just been stressed out over school,” he says and it’s not like it’s a total lie.

“Just school?”

Dean sighs and lies down across Sam’s bed, “I’ve thought about quitting. So I could work more and we could pay that fucking loan off and Sam could go to school.”

“Dean, you’ve done me proud with what you’ve done with your life, and I’d be proud whatever you do, but damn it you are dumb. If you think I’m gonna let your ass quit school _now_ , well, you’ve got another thing comin’!” Bobby nearly yells down the phone.

Dean swallows, “Right.”

Bobby calms down, “Listen, how ‘bout I make a trip down to you guys. I haven’t seen you in a while. Then we’ll figure something out, Dean. You ain’t quitting school.”

When he doesn’t reply Bobby speaks again, “Dean?”

“Yeah… Okay,” he mumbles and drapes his arm over his eyes. He has a headache.

“You’re doing okay, aren’t you, son?”

“Yeah. Gotta go. Call me when you find out when you’re coming,” Dean says and hangs up after Bobby has promised to call.

He goes to sleep almost immediately after, in Sam’s bed, on top of his covers.

\----

 

Dean has Saturday off and he wakes up around 10am and refuses to get up because he doesn’t have a single plan, and the day in front of him seems to stretch on for infinity.

He gets up when he has to pee about an hour later, and then watches the True Hollywood Story of a celebrity he’s too old to have heard of. He stares out the kitchen window while he eats cereal, and he really, really wants to call Cas.

He wonders why he said those shitty things to him. He can’t find a single excuse and he just wants to call Cas and apologize and tell him that he’s sorry, he should have warned him that he’s poison, that he ruins everything he touches. Cas is better off without him.

But he had been so great and he’d made Dean feel like he was actually worth someone’s time. Like he was actually smart and kind and all those things. Cas had probably realized his mistake by now though.

Castiel is great, probably the greatest, but Dean still can’t believe he’s this hung up on a guy that didn’t even want to fuck him. That’s not like him. Maybe he just needs to get off. He completely ignores the idea that he should take a look at Cas' - Jimmy's - page. He's not that much of a douche.

He drops his bowl in the sink and goes to take a shower, jerking off while trying not to picture Cas and failing miserably. That is how much of a douche he is., apparently.

He feels even worse after. Cas clearly doesn’t want him that way, doesn’t feel that way about him. Dean should just get over it.

Maybe he should meet someone new. Then he remembers that Cas is the only ‘someone new’ Dean has met while doing grad school, and figures maybe he’d be better off calling Ash. He puts out and he always has weed.

 

“Dean!” Ash opens his arms wide when Dean opens the door for him, “My man, how’ve you been?”

“C’mon in,” Dean grins at him and steps to the side. They don’t hug or kiss or anything like that. Not that they did a lot of that cutesy stuff when they were together either.

Ash goes into Dean’s room while Dean gets beer from the kitchen. When he gets back Ash is sitting on the floor, back against the bed and has already fired up the first bowl.

“You brought a bong?” Dean smirks and hands a beer to Ash.

He shrugs, “Hey, Dean Winchester calls, you pull out the big guns.” He takes the bong to his face and lights up.

They put on Resident Evil on Dean’s laptop and pass the bong back and forth for a while as they catch up. It’s nice, getting high and hanging out with someone that knew Dean at a simpler time (not that Dean’s had a single simple time in his life).

Dean goes to take a hit but Ash gets up on his knees, “Let me,” He kneels in front of Dean, a knee between Dean’s feet as Dean has his knees bend to his chest.

He grabs the orange BIC lighter from Dean’s hands, and time slows down indefinitely. Dean feels every brush of his hands, warm and dry. He looks at Ash as he concentrates on lighting the weed for Dean, and Dean suddenly misses him, misses being twenty-one and getting high on the weekends and having sex to Ash’ Down Tempo playlists in his rented basement apartment, and discussing conspiracy theories after.

Dean takes a hit, slowly, still observing Ash, who finally looks up at Dean. Dean lowers the bong, sets it down next to him while Ash reaches for his face to pull him closer. Dean reaches for his arms, pulls him in by the sleeve of his T-shirt, and time is still moving so slow and he thinks he might be inside of a flashback.

Ash runs his hands down Dean’s back, pushing him to the side so they end up lying down on the floor, and Ash keeps his leg between Dean’s, slides his thigh against Dean’s. Their eyes stay fixed on each other’s. Ash’s hands roam over Dean’s shoulder, makes its way down his chest, and Dean had been pretty blank until he feels a moment’s warmth at being wanted, and then he feels Ash’s hand cupping his jean-clad dick and then he only feels sick.

“Wow, hey, wait,” he sits back up, pushing Ash back and scoots back.

Ash leans back to allow space for Dean, “Dude, what the hell?”

“Shit man,” he leans forward, hiding his face in his hands. This is bad. “Oh shit, I fucked up.”

“What you got a girl or guy or something?” Ash asks, not a trace of bitterness in his voice and Dean doesn’t understand how these great people can stand being around him.

Dean rubs his face a sighs, “No, it’s not…” he looks up at Ash through his hands, “Kinda. I don’t know.”

“Dude,” Ash just says.

Dean picks at a loose thread in his jeans, “He doesn’t want me.”

“Hey, that’s crazy,” Ash says like a supportive girlfriend.

“I fucked things up with him. Like I always do.”

Ash picks the bong up again but doesn’t do anything with it, “What’s this self-pity crap?” he asks.

“It’s true. I mean look at this,” he points between the two of them, “What kind of shitty person booty-calls their ex on a Saturday afternoon, eight months after they’ve last even Facebook messaged. We dated _five years ago_ for fuck’s sake!”

Ash shrugs, “I was glad you called. I’m just disappointed you’re not even putting out. It’s still nice catching up though.” He says it lightheartedly and Dean could kiss him for not being pissed about this. Dean would’ve been.

“It is nice. I’m still sorry.”

Ash doesn’t reply, and they just sit in companionable silence for a while, looking at Netflix’s suggestions because they saw Resident Evil.

Dean wonders what Cas is doing. How pissed he’d be if Dean called him right now.

“Should I go?” Ash asks after a while, “Not that I don’t enjoy your company even when you keep it in your pants, but I get the feeling I shouldn’t be here.”

Dean shrugs. Ash probably should go but Dean doesn’t want to be alone, and he doesn’t want to talk about feelings.

Ash makes a decision without him, “I’m gonna go,” and then he gets up. He goes to the kitchen to clear out the bong and packs it away before coming into Dean’s room again, leaning against the doorframe.

“It was good to see you, man. If things don’t work out with your fella, you should give me a call. Or even if they do, and you want me to beat your ass at Diablo for old times’ sake.”

Dean manages a grin and nods. “You’re a pretty great dude, Ash.”

“Likewise,” Ash grins too.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“I know how you like to worry that pretty little head of yours. Don’t, about this. And don’t about that dude either, okay?” Ash says and with a wave he leaves.

 

Dean calls Benny, who usually doesn’t want to talk for hours, but he makes an exception tonight and they don’t even talk about feelings for a long while, they just discuss school and Charlie and football, and when Dean _does_ talk about feelings after about an hour and a half, Benny doesn’t even judge him or say it’s because he’s ‘half gay’. He just tells him to stop worrying so much; he’ll always have him and Charlie.

 

\-----

 

Sam comes home on Sunday afternoon and Dean is eating dinner of a takeout cheeseburger in front of the TV.

“Sammy! Hey! How was Atlanta?”

His gangly little brother drops his duffel bag in the hallway and sits on the armrest next to Dean. He steals a fry, “Good. We were really lucky with the weather.”

Dean mocks him under his breath. He’s such a nerd. “So you didn’t spend all three days in bed?” he smirks and Sam whines.

“You’re so inappropriate!”

“Aw, c’mon! Your best friend is a girl! You’re bound to sleep together. It’s biology.” Dean argues and grins at Sam’s blush.

Then Sam scoffs, “Your best friends are a guy and a girl, and you’re bi. You haven’t slept with them either.”

“Well, it’s not for lack of trying,” Dean says and they burst out laughing. Dean’s first words to both Charlie and Benny had been fucking _lines_. “Besides, it works because Charlie is gay and Benny is straight. It’s tactical.”

“Right,” Sam plops down on the couch, squeezing Dean with his enormous body and Dean scoots over, “What did you do all weekend?”

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy. I’m sure your weekend was way more exciting than mine.”

Sam tells about all the nerdy cultural shit they saw, things Dean’s never even heard about, and about Eileen’s reactions to them, and what great legends came out of Atlanta, and he shows him picture after picture on his cracked iPhone screen that’s needed a replacement for months but which they can’t afford.

“Anyway, it was pretty cool. I’m glad Eileen suggested it,” Sam finishes and then he gets off the couch, stretching his legs, “I’m gonna unpack and then I wanna watch I Am Legend if you’re up for it?”

Dean nods and Sam gets his duffle and makes his way to his room. He comes back about ten minutes later, “Can I borrow your charger? I think I forgot mine. Or maybe Eileen has it.”

“Just take it,” Dean mumbles.

Sam barely makes it one foot into Dean’s room, before his head pops back out, “Dean, why does it smell like weed in here?”

Dean lifts an eyebrow at Sam. Should this be a big deal? “Ash was here.”

Sam comes back out, plugging the charger into his phone and into the wall, all the while looking at Dean with a look of disbelief and disappointment, “You didn’t.”

He knows what Dean does. He knows that Dean only calls his exes for sex, especially Ash because that was always low-key.

Dean keeps his eyes fixed on the TV, “No. I didn’t.”

Sam sits down next to him, eyes glued to his big brother’s face, “You didn’t?”

Dean swallows his bite of burger and turns to Sam with a sigh, “I was gonna. But I didn’t.”

Sam doesn’t reply.

“I know. That’s real character development, right there,” Dean snorts sarcastically.

“No, that’s not… I’m just glad you didn’t. I like Cas,” Sam explains.

Dean sighs and rubs his lips, “Yeah,” he mutters, “I do too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Feel free to leave feedback :)


	9. Chapter 9

Charlie taps another key on Dean’s keyboard, likely deleting another comma. Dean knows he’s shit at that crap. He still stops his pacing to turn and look at her, “How’s it looking?” he asks for what must be rounding the 100th time.

“Oh my god, Dean! Can you please just let me finish?” Charlie says exasperatedly. She’s proofreading his full written proposal before it is due in 15 hours.

“Sorry!” he holds his hands up and drops down into the armchair. He can’t help tapping his foot against the floor. He blows a raspberry and Charlie glares at him. 

She sighs and leans back in her chair. “Why don’t you go get us some dinner?” she suggests.

Dean gets back up without hesitation. Anything is better than this agony, “Great idea! Pizza?”

“Kinda craving Thai,” she says.

“Gotcha,” Dean says on his way out of the door, shrugging Sam’s old jacket on. His jacket is still at Castiel’s apartment, and he still hasn’t called.

 

The walk to the nearest, cleanest Thai place isn’t too far but the wind is cold despite the season and Dean makes his way at a brisk pace. When he has made it the first block it starts raining too and Dean squints against the weather, speeding up to a light jog.

He barges into the place, bell chiming and door slamming shut after him to keep the wind out. The restaurant is small, which is only accentuated with all the knickknacks between the too close to each other tables. Vases, waving fortune cats and even aquariums take up most of the floor space. Between all of the stuff Dean almost misses them on his way to his counter. 

There are only a few guests, and Dean wants to get the food and go back to Charlie’s without any distractions but then he hears a familiar voice and without even meaning to, he turns his head in its direction. 

They’re on the other side of one of the aquariums, slightly obscured by the waves and the underwater plants, but Dean would recognize that dark hair and pale skin anywhere. 

Castiel is sitting there in a booth, still wearing his coat, and across from him is a girl with fiery red hair, and even through the water Dean can tell she’s pretty. The girl is laughing.

Dean can’t face them. Not when he thought there still was a chance, and not when there still hasn’t been one single day that Cas hasn’t been on his mind. 

He means to turn to leave but he’s too slow, he contemplates for too long, and then a waitress behind him says ‘Takeaway ready for Milton’, and Cas and the pretty girl get up, the girl still laughing and she clings to him, and Dean _hopes_ Castiel will be too occupied with the girl to notice him when they have to walk past him, and for a second he thinks his prayers have been heard. 

Dean keeps his head down, turns around and pretends to be occupied with looking at the fish in the aquarium. But he can’t resist, he turns to look over his shoulder, really just to torture himself. A shallow gasp escapes his throat when he meets familiar blue eyes that are crinkling with a smile but circled dark with grad school sleep-deprivation. When they catch onto Dean the crinkles vanish, they turn to something else and Castiel stops in his tracks.

The girl stops too and turns around to see what made Cas stop and now there are two pairs of blue eyes on him. Castiel lets go of the girl's arm, which had been tucked into his elbow, and he takes a step in Dean’s direction, opens his mouth to say something, but Dean turns and strides back out into the rain.

He doesn’t turn around until he's safely back in Charlie’s living room.

“Dude, where’s the food?” she’s still behind his laptop.

Dean is still out of breath and wet, “Let’s just order in.”

 

\------

 

Dean hands in the full written proposal with fifteen minutes to spare, and the next two weeks should have been sleep and work, but the fucking _thesis_. He really should’ve gotten the comp exam out of the way in his first year. Like Cas is doing.

At least the end is neigh. He’ll finish school in a few months, and then he can get a better-paying job, a real job, and even if he can’t straight away, he can pick up more hours at his current one. 

But he’s already talking to companies and labs. One wants to see him for an interview before his final exam. He has told not one single soul about this, not even Sam.

He spends his time between work, sleep and revising. Sometimes a mix of the three.

Like this afternoon, a little over a week after the hand-in. He’d had the morning shift and finished at three when Meg came in, but it’s three hours later and he hasn’t left the café yet, still in uniform too, because a day has always had too few hours and he was supposed to study with Aaron.

Aaron had called it quits around four though, when he discovered that Dean actually wanted to _study_ and not listen to him go on about his new crush. 

So Dean is still there, alone. There’s an empty mug, plate and glass pushed to the edge of his four-man table, notes spread across the surface. He’s too absorbed to think about refills right now.

There is one thing that can pull him from his thoughts on protein structure and function though. That can pull him from just about anything.

It’s _that voice_.

And right now it’s requesting “One cappuccino and one cherry strudel, please.”

Dean stops tapping his foot, puts the article he was reading down on the table. His stomach drops but not in a bad way. He knows Dean works here after all. Dean turns to look.

“Clarence! Come to win your man back?” Meg, the asshat, says to him.

Castiel has turned towards Dean and their eyes meet, and Dean doesn’t even turn away. He just gets butterflies.

When Meg realizes she’s being ignored she rolls her eyes, “Ugh, just go down there, I’ll bring you your stuff.”

That, Castiel hears and he makes his way to Dean’s table, his eyes never wavering from Dean’s face.

Dean doesn’t want to break eye contact but he’s weak. He turns his head, pulling some of his things together, like he’s making space for Cas, who has already made his way to the table. 

“Hello Dean,” he says and his voice sends shivers down Dean’s spine. He swallows before looking up at him.

“Hey, Cas,” he smiles and he knows it’s awkward and his palms are already sweaty.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Castiel gestures to the chair across from Dean.

“No! Please do!” he says too eagerly and frowns at himself. 

Castiel smiles and nods. He puts what Dean realizes is his missing jacket down on the next chair and then takes his seat. What if he’s just here to return it?

It’s awkward. Castiel says “Hello,” again. Dean musters up a smile.

Meg brings the cappuccino and strudel and even a refill for Dean. She, god bless, doesn’t say anything, only lifts her eyebrows at Dean when he makes eye contact. He mentally flips her off. 

Castiel takes a bite of his strudel. Dean folds his hand around his mug, letting the warmth seep through.

“I think Meg had it wrong,” Dean says then, determined to break the ice. He’s the one who has a mountain of apology to get started on.

Castiel tips his head to one side, frowning in confusion, “Had what wrong?” Dean’s butterflies multiply.

He chuckles, self-aware, “ _I’m_ the one who should be doing the winning-back.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something but Dean holds a hand up to stop him, “Please, Cas. I owe you the biggest apology,” he starts.

Castiel opens his mouth again but Dean interrupts him.

“I was such an asshole, I know that. I knew it then, too. I was just- I was really stressed out, I think you know that,” he waves himself off, “But that’s no excuse! I’m aware of that too, and I’m not trying to make excuses, I just hope you know that I’m not normally like that.”

“Dean-“

“Please, Cas. I’m so sorry. It was such a terribly shitty thing to say, and I honestly don’t know what made me say it, and I wish – I _wish_ \- that I could take it back!” Dean tries to meet Cas’ eyes at least once a sentence, but he’s so embarrassed over his own behavior, he’s so ashamed, and it’s hard to make eye contact while Cas just sits there.

He goes on, “I know your job is hard. Please know that; I really didn’t mean to make it out like your job is easy, trust me. I know that sex work is _hard_. I was just in a bad place, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m so sorry, Cas.”

Cas doesn’t look angry when Dean finally looks at him for more than two seconds. He’s frowning, like he’s listening intently to what Dean has to say and he’s looking a little… confused, maybe?

“I… Appreciate that, Dean.” He says.

Dean sucks his lower lip in-between his teeth.

“Are you in a better place now?” Cas then asks.

Dean shrugs, “I’m fine.”

Castiel nods but he’s still frowning. He brings his coffee to his mouth to take a sip.

Dean bites his lip, his palms still sweaty in his lap under the table, “So… Do you think you can forgive me?” His heart is beating so fast it almost physically hurts.

“I- Yes, Dean. I appreciate and accept your apology. I was aware you were under a great deal pressure at the time, and I understand. In fact I, too, would like to apologize,” Castiel says, hands clasped together and resting on the edge of the table. He looks at Dean with such sincerity that he wants to hate himself.

It’s Dean’s turn to look confused, “Pardon?”

Cas blinks, “I think I owe you an apology.”

“What?! Cas, no, not at all!” 

“Dean, yes. I was quite affected by the pressure of deadlines myself at the time and I believe I overreacted. I shouldn’t just have left you with nothing but silence for so long. I realized that when I saw you at the Thai restaurant,” Castiel explains. Dean is more confused.

Dean shakes his head, “Seriously, you don’t owe me anything. I’m just grateful you’re even fucking talking to me.” Castiel looks kind of pained, like Dean is frustrating him by pushing his apology away. But hell, if Dean cares about that. He cannot believe he’s made Castiel feel like he owes _him_ an apology!

“I don’t agree. I was insensitive to your situation. You had told me you were financially compromised on top of the stress from school, and I don’t think I showed a lot of understanding. For that, I’m sorry. I have never had money problems, nor have I ever had to take care of a younger sibling both emotionally and financially, and I shouldn’t have compared our situations. I… admire you a great deal for what you’re doing,” Cas says in earnest, leaning forward.

Dean feels even fucking worse. Cas admires him for what he’s doing, which is what? Selfishly spending all their money on his own education when Sam was the one with a dream. Spending Bobby’s whole retirement when it isn’t even Bobby’s responsibility. How admirable.

“Dean, please stop. I know you’re thinking you are undeserving but that’s not how I see it. Will you accept my apology?” Castiel asks in a no-nonsense tone.

“Well, hell, Cas. Yeah,” he says, “Apology accepted then.”

Castiel’s smile lights up the room, “I’m glad.” Then he smirks and leans forward slightly (and actually smirks! Dean’s ever only seen him do that on film) “Does that mean I get to kiss you again?”

Dean grins, “You get to do pretty much whatever you want to do to me, Cas.”

Cas swallows, burst of confidence disappearing as fast at it had appeared, eyes sinking to his hands resting on the table, “I think I’d like to start with just the kisses.”

Dean smiles at his shyness, “That sounds good too.”

Castiel smiles back and then his eye catches onto Meg at the counter. She’s not even pretending like she’s not eavesdropping, “Preferably somewhere with less of an audience.”

Then Meg smirks.

“Uh, okay. Your place? Sam has a study group thing at ours,” Dean asks.

Castiel agrees and Dean pulls on his beloved and very missed leather jacket that will always smell like his father, but kind of smells like Cas’ aftershave right now too. They leave with waves at Meg who wolf whistles back at them and Dean forgets Sam’s borrowed jacket at the café. 

 

They make it to the parking lot and Dean has all the intention of opening the car door for Cas, but it’s hard when Cas’ intention seems to be pushing Dean against it, fisting the lapels of his jacket and pressing their chests together.

“I missed you,” he breathes against Dean’s mouth and his breath is sweet with cappuccino foam and powdered sugar from the pastry he only had one bite of.

And then he kisses him.

Tension leaves Dean’s body as he kisses Cas back, pulling him closer by his hips. But it doesn’t have the desired effect when Cas just pulls back, inhaling to speak. Dean takes the opportunity to nuzzle under his chin, pressing kisses to his jawline and Castiel actually _giggles_ , before pulling Dean away with his fingers tugging on his hair. Unfair.

“Smaller audience, Dean,” he grins and Dean groans jokingly.

“Fine. Get in the car,” he turns and opens it for the other man who quickly gets in.

Dean gets in the other side and starts the engine, which prompts Zeppelin at the highest volume and Dean winces as he turns it down. “Sorry,” he mumbles at a shocked Cas. He always keeps his music loud when he’s down. He’s no good with thoughts. He guesses it’s time to turn it back down, though.

Dean pulls out of the parking lot, “How’ve you been?” 

“Good, mostly. Or, fine, I guess,” Dean catches a frown on Cas face when he spares a glimpse away from the road, “My sister visited.”

Dean feels a million times better, “The redhead? At the Thai place?”

“Right, yes, that was her. It was eventful but any time with Anna is. But I managed to turn in my written proposal in time.” He says the last part with a relieved smile.

“Hey, me too!” Dean grins and they spend the rest of the way to Cas’ block talking about deadlines.

 

That’s all over once they make it to the elevator though, and it’s Cas’ fault, really, because he’s the one who grabs Dean’s hand, lacing their fingers. 

Dean uses the link to pull him close and he caresses Cas’ face, nestles his fingers in his hair as he lets his palm rest against his jaw and connects their lips again.

It’s sweeter this time and Dean thinks that this is the best kiss he’s ever had.

They jump apart when the elevator stops, expecting to be caught. Turns out they’ve reached Cas’ floor and Cas pulls Dean after him, never letting go of his hand, not even to unlock the door.

The mood changes the minute the door is shut behind them, Castiel pulling Dean’s face to his own, and Dean yanking Cas close by his hips. They stumble backwards, jackets half off their shoulders, until they reach the couch, tipping onto it as one, Dean on top of Cas.

Dean leans back to pull his jacket off and Cas struggles out of his coat too. Both get discarded on the floor as the men reattach like they’re starving without each other’s lips on their own. 

Castiel’s fingers wander under Dean’s work T-shirt and Dean slots his knee between Cas’ thighs, grinding into the man under him. He’s going for Cas’ fly next.

And then it stops. As quickly as it had started Cas’ pulling turns to gentle but definitive pushing, and he leans back, blue eyes searching Dean’s green ones.

Dean pushes off the armrest to get off of Cas and the other man scoots back until they’re next to each other, still facing each other but no longer on top of one another.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, worried he already fucked it up again. He’s still panting slightly.

Castiel rearranges himself, curls one leg up under him. His breath is coming in short puffs too and his hair is a bigger mess than usual (and Dean wants his fingers back in it) “Nothing is wrong. You didn’t do anything. I just- I’m sorry, but I think there are some things we need to discuss, if this,” he motions between them, “is going to… Happen…”

Dean lifts an eyebrow at Cas’ vague request.

Cas rolls his eyes and sighs, “If we’re going to be together. Romantically.”

Dean smirks, “And are we?”

“I-“ Castiel shrugs, eyes finding his hands in his lap, “That’s what I want.”

Dean grab one of the hands and Castiel looks up at him again, “That’s what I want too.”

Castiel smiles serenely, apparently forgetting what was so important to discuss but he shakes his head to get back on track, “I just think we should… Well, we need to discuss boundaries, I suppose. Just with the porn and…” he fades out, his eyes wandering off to the side. 

“Cas, I don’t give a fuck about that. That’s your job,” Dean protests but Cas just holds a hand up to stop him.

“Things have changed a bit. I have a different contract now. I have for a while actually. I don’t do… partner stuff anymore,” he tells Dean, which Dean doesn’t really know what means. Cas can tell from his squinting, “Just solo stuff. Here,” he points to where he’s seated, “In my apartment. Uhm, live stuff.”

“Oh,” Dean says. So Cas is a camboy now. Dean kind of wishes he was still a fan of Jimmy’s because that sounds all kinds of hot. But he has _Cas_ , the real deal, and that’s infinitely better.

“Yes, just with the exams and stuff. It's been... quite a bit more stressful to maintain a porn career next to a grad school work load. In was not a problem in undergrad. I’ve been contemplating applying for a student loan next semester, and then I’ll get my masters in a year, which hopefully means I can find a job I’m passionate about,” Castiel tells Dean, and Dean can’t help but be surprised. 

“Huh,” Dean starts. As much as 'Jimmy' and Cas are two separate people in Dean's mind, it's almost hard to imagine him leaving porn. "So you're not gonna go back?" he asks softly. Dean gets it, wanting something else than porn. But Cas has always seemed fine with what he does. And hell, with Jimmy’s status it’s pretty much a _career_. 

“I am not sure yet. I'm not sure how I feel about dating and doing porn at the same time," Castiel says.

“Right,” Dean nods. He reaches out to take one of Cas’ hands, “You don't have to quit on my account. As long as you’re happy, Cas. That’s all I care about.”

Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand, “Well, this makes me happy,” he smiles, the sap.

Dean smiles back but then something hits him, “Wait, haven’t you ever dated anyone while you were in porn before?” Dean’s pretty sure some of the videos on Cas’ site date back about five years.

“Well,” Castiel blushes and refuses to meet Dean’s eyes. Dean waits for probably a good full minute before Castiel elaborates, “I haven’t technically dated anyone before at all.”

Dean squints confusedly at the other man.

Castiel waves his own words off, “Or well, not ‘technically’” again with the air quotes, “I haven’t ever dated anyone before.”

Dean just looks incredulously at him for a second before exclaiming, “How is that even possible?!”

“I’m an introvert,” Castiel excuses lamely with a shrug and Dean sees it for the dismissal it is and knows prying isn’t welcome in this situation, so he leaves it.

They sit in silence for a bit. It isn’t awkward but it’s not entirely comfortable either, though their hands are still clasped in Cas’ lap. Dean can’t stop thinking about this new piece of information. Has Castiel just never been interested in dating before? Then what about Dean has made him change his mind? And does this mean that Cas has never had sex off screen before? Or been taken out for dinner? 

Castiel breaks Dean’s chain of sappy thought with, “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to date you.”

“Why me though?” Dean can’t help but ask. Cas must have a line of suitors.

Castiel shrugs, ”You’re sweet,” he says simply, with a soft smile across his face.

Dean smiles back before he remembers why he most certainly is not fucking _sweet_ and the smile fades, probably along with the color in his face, “Shit.”

Castiel frowns and tries to grip Dean’s hand tighter when he tries to pull it away, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

Dean gets his hand free and rubs both hands down his face, “Fuck man. I gotta come clean to you about something.”

“Yes?” Castiel sounds nervous.

“Uhm, oh god. Don’t hate me, okay?” he asks, biting his lower lip. Castiel doesn’t reply; he doesn’t get the chance before Dean goes on, “I did something stupid. I have this ex. We dated a million years ago, but we kind of… We- get in touch,” he says, not sure how to put it.

Castiel’s frown deepens, “Sexually?”

“Usually,” Dean sighs. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, before looking back at Cas, “I hadn’t seen him in almost a year, but then he came over a few days ago…”

Castiel doesn’t look nervous anymore, he just looks upset. And hurt. “And you had sex with him.” It’s not even a question.

Dean waves both hands in front of himself, “No! We didn’t! Nothing happened, we didn’t even kiss. We just… got high and talked for a while.” His shoulders fall down. He wishes he were smaller. He feels small under Cas’ gaze. “I mean, we were gonna, I think. But then I couldn’t do that to you, and I’m just really sorry.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, just stares at Dean with those penetrative eyes of his. When he does speak it’s not what Dean expects: “I didn’t know you smoked weed.”

“Cas…” Dean hangs his head.

Cas waves it off, “Dean, I am not sure it would be fair of me to be upset. We weren’t talking at the time.”

“But you _are_ upset, I know you are. And we were just in a fight. It’s not like… Things weren’t final between us or anything.” Dean explains.

Castiel smiles wistfully, “I suppose I can’t help being a little upset. I view intimacy a lot differently than what my peers tend to.” Dean doesn’t get to ask what that means. “I do appreciate you telling me. And that you didn’t have sex with him. I guess that means you’re Team Rachel.” Castiel’s smile turns a little more genuine.

Dean huffs a breath of laughter and relief. “We’re good then? I promise nothing like that will happen again. I know about my reputation but I don’t cheat.”

Cas’ eyes soften and he scoots closer to Dean, thighs pressing together, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He leans into Dean and they kiss once more, soft again, and their fingers stay on top of their clothing.

But after a while, they mesh together and Dean ends up on his back, Castiel sprawled half on top of him and he has really sharp elbows but also very soft lips so it’s okay. It doesn’t heat up again, but Dean thinks they need to start slow.

Castiel deserves more than Hurricane Dean that throws himself into relationships dick first, emotions last, daddy issues blazing and lack of self-worth staining everything, wrecking everything in his wake. Castiel deserves a slow start and no ending, still mornings and home cooked dinners, handholding, family meetings, shared holidays. He deserves it all, and Dean wants nothing more than to give it to him.

He tries to relay it in the way he moves his lips against Cas’, in how he tangles his fingers in his hair, presses his body against him.

The way Castiel responds to him tells him he understands.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually need an additional 8 hours a day solely to write fanfiction

Dean sighs and closes his laptop. His productivity of the day has reached a rate of rapid descend but his thermos of coffee is still half full (look at him staying positive, though).

Benny looks up at him by the snap of the closing laptop, “You done?”

Dean tips back in his chair because years of falling on his ass in classrooms have taught him nothing, “I need a break.”

Charlie finishes typing, brow furrowed and the tip of her tongue stuck out between her lips in concentration. 

Benny stares at her then announces, “Sounds like a plan, brother. I gotta go buy smokes anyway. Anyone need provisions?”

“Get me a Gatorade,” Dean says. Charlie requests gum drops. “Oh, and can you buy M&M’s? Cas probably wants chocolate.” Dean asks. Cas had a class to attend but is joining them for comp amendment later.

Benny gets the $10 bill from Dean and saunters off, putting his cap back on his head. His laptop, books and bag are all still left by their table. They’re not going anywhere soon.

Dean leans forward on his elbows and picks up his phone again. Cas still hasn’t replied because he’s still in class but Dean is a lovesick puppy so he sends him another text. This one about how bored he is.

“How’re you guys doing?” Charlie asks, apparently done with her paragraph (or sentence, more likely, they’ve been here for a couple of hours, there’s not enough concentration to finish a paragraph in one go anymore).

Dean always hates talking emotions but he can’t help the smile that bubbles up on his face. It’s been a little under month now since they became _boyfriends_ , which is a term that Castiel had started using all casually, like that didn't give Dean a half-hour breakdown he needed Sam to deal with, but which also is a term Dean both hates and loves. There’s been a handful of dates, a lot of studying and even more making out. 

But it’s slow. Compared to what Dean is used to, they’re taking things painfully slow. They get close, they’ve made it to the bedroom and their underwear several times but Cas always slows things down, pushes Dean away, gives him that smile, the fucking apologetic one, like he is doing something wrong. 

It makes Dean hate himself a little bit for clearly misreading signals, and it makes him a hell of a lot confused. What are they waiting for? They’re into each other, he knows. And Dean has already told him he’s serious about this; that Castiel is the one he wants. (And Dean doesn’t fucking _do_ serious but here he is). But for now it’s not enough, and for now he waits.

(It’s not like Dean isn’t enjoying the non-sexual aspects of the relationship. It’s actually really nice, the cuddling, the cooking for each other, the proof reading papers and back massages. But he is _horny_ ).

“Things are pretty good,” Dean nods.

Charlie smirks, “And what’s it like finally getting to bang your favorite porn star?”

Dean doesn’t get upset about the porn star comments anymore because Charlie is friends with Cas now. They tag each other on animal videos and buzzfeed quizzes on Facebook all the time now, so Dean knows Charlie respects Cas and doesn’t just see him as the porn star Dean has a crush on.

Dean scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat. He looks around, not wanting to discuss this if Castiel suddenly shows up. “We’re not… Uh, we haven’t, technically…”

Charlie gapes, “You haven’t fucked yet?!” She basically screams and Dean shushes her, blush high on his cheeks.

“Jesus, Charlie, can you not shout it to the world?”

“Sorry,” she whispers and then talks a little more quietly, “I’m just surprised. I mean I saw one of his videos. I didn’t exactly take him for an uptight guy. And I _know_ it can’t be you,” she grins.

Dean squints at her, “You saw one of his videos?”

Charlie shrugs and looks innocently at him, “I had to see what all the fuss was about.”

“That’s fucked up, Charlie.”

She shrugs again.

“Which one was it?” he leans closer to her, grinning mischievously.

She returns the exact same grin, “Three dudes and blue anal beads. They were on a patio.”

Dean nods in recognition, “Ah, yeah, that one’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I was certainly impressed,” she giggles, covering her mouth with her hands to keep quiet in the library that’s full of students studying for finals, and Dean grins back, feeling like a 12-year old girl at a sleepover.

He bites his lip to stop laughing, “But yeah, we’re not quite there yet.”

“Hm,” Charlie muses with a shrug, “Maybe he wants to make sure you’re for real. Like, you’re not just trying to get in his pants so you can say you fucked Jimmy Novak.”

Dean rubs his fingers over his lips in contemplation, “Sam suggested the same thing, but I don’t think Cas has any doubts about my intentions. I’ve been pretty upfront about, you know… What I wanted.”

“You mean your _feeeeelings_ ,” Charlie mocks, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He throws Benny’s pen cap at her, “Fuck off.”

Charlie giggles but reaches out to Dean, “I’m sure it’ll work out. He’s pretty into you.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, “It’ll be fine.”

“I’m gone for twenty minutes and the study session turns into a therapy group? What the hell, guys?” Benny dumps the bag of snacks on the table and Charlie immediately starts digging after her candy.

“Shut up,” Dean mumbles at the same time Charlie grins wide and announces:

“We’re talking about cute boys!”

Benny grumbles while he takes his seat, “Dean’s the only one here who likes cute boys.”

Charlie shrugs, “I’d much rather talk about cute girls anyway. You guys see those girls sitting at the table over there?” she points between a couple of bookshelves. 

“Can we discuss something else?” Benny grumbles, somehow even more sourly.

“Why don’t you wanna talk about Dean’s new boyfriend? They’re ridiculously cute!” Charlie exclaims.

Dean ignores her and asks Benny “She still pissed at you?”

Benny shrugs, “She’s replying to my texts now. It’s all passive-aggressive, but it’s better than silence.”

“If Cas can forgive me for my bullshit, I’m sure Andrea can find it in her heart to forgive you for yours,” Dean tries to be supportive.

Benny shrugs and opens his book. Dean figures he ought to get back to studying too, but he only manages to open his laptop before Castiel shows up to distract him with his unruly hair and stupid oversized NYU sweatshirt that has replaced the creepy trench coat he wore during the colder months.

Dean smiles like the loved up dork he is as Cas leans down to kiss him.

“How cute,” Charlie coos while Benny rolls his eyes.

“Hey,” Dean smiles up at Cas who’s still standing next to Dean’s chair.

Castiel runs his fingertips through the fine hairs at the nape of Dan’s neck and Dean shivers. “Hello, Dean. Charlie, Benny,” He nods at them, and Benny nods back while Charlie salutes.

“How was class?” Dean asks while Cas walks around the round table to sit across from Dean, in-between Charlie and Benny.

“Alright. Half the students are having breakdowns over finals and the other half has already gone on vacation mentally,” Castiel sighs but he seems to be in good spirits.

Charlie huffs, “Yeah, same here. We haven’t done anything productive in an hour!”

“Hey, that’s not true, I’ve been snack-shopping,” Benny disagrees and they all laugh. 

Castiel unpacks the things he needs, apparently thinking he’s going to get anything done, “How long have you been here?”

Charlie tips her head back, groaning, “Too damn long!” she looks at them again, “I really don’t think I’m gonna get any more done today.” She stacks up her books on top of her laptop.

“You wanna go eat instead of this?” Benny asks, prepared to forget about the snacks he just bought.

“Fuck yeah,” Dean says, closing his laptop once again and picking up his bag to slip it in.

Castiel looks kind of lost, probably because he just got here and expected to study, but oh well, he should have known.

So they make it to the nearest diner and gorge themselves on fast food and easy conversation, and when Andrea calls, ready for an apology, Benny takes off, soon followed by Charlie who promised her followers she’d be online streaming her play-through of whatever game had just premiered. 

Dean and Cas order a milkshake with two straws and play footsie.

“When is Sam’s law school interview?” Castiel asks.

Dean drops the straw back into the milkshake, “Not until June or July, I think.”

“And what about you? Do you have any interviews?”

Dean clears his throat because he still hasn’t told anyone, “I do actually. I have an initial one in a few weeks that they want to follow up on after graduation.”

“Really?” Cas smiles in surprise, “That’s wonderful, Dean. What kind of position is it for?”

“It’s clinical research. I mean I don’t know that much about it, they just emailed me a while back asking me to come in for an interview, so…” Dean shrugs.

“You were headhunted?” Cas asks, looking kind of proud and Dean can’t help but blush.

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure they’ve called in a bunch of people for interviews.”

Castiel frowns, “Why is it that you’re never proud of anything you do?”

Dean sighs. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. He usually breaks up with people when they start with this shit but he can’t do that now. Not that he wants to even a little bit. But he doesn’t reply either. He sips on the milkshake instead.

Castiel understands the dismissal and slumps back in his seat.

They sit in silence then for a while and it’s not uncomfortable despite the note it started on, and they keep playing footsie and sharing the milkshake, until Dean’s phone interrupts them.

The caller ID says it’s Sam and Dean answers it, “What’s up?”

“Dean, hey. Where are you? I thought you’d be home by now?” Sam asks. And _Dean_ is the worried mother hen?

“I’m with Cas. We’ve been studying.”

Sam makes a noise of understanding. “We were about to order pizza, that’s why I called. But I’m guessing you’re not coming home for dinner?” He asks instead.

“Uh,” Dean looks at Cas. He’s not sure what the plan is. He’s not ready to leave Cas for the day, and it’s not like they haven’t spent the night together before but he’s never sure what Cas wants.

Castiel looks up questioningly at Dean’s lull in phone conversation.

Dean puts his hand over the phone’s microphone, “You wanna hang out? Watch a movie or something?” he asks.

Castiel’s face breaks into a glorious smile and he nods.

Dean grins back just as brightly, “Yeah, Sam, I’m not gonna make it for dinner.”

He barely catches the “Way to go!” on the other end before he hangs up and he completely ignores the “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow ;)))” text not thirty seconds later.

Dean locks his phone and smiles up at Cas, “Let’s get out of here.”

\--------

 

Dean is sure it’s going to happen this time. They’ve spent all afternoon and early evening goofing off and cuddling in front of some Netflix Original until they ran out of episodes to watch and their hands started wandering.

It had been nothing new. Hands mapping bodies out, fingers pinching and caressing, tongues lapping at each other. It made Dean’s head spin but he was certain Cas was always going to make him feel that way.

When clothes had started being unbuttoned and pulled off they’d made their way to the bedroom.

Still nothing new or groundbreaking. Still made Dean achingly hard.

And seemingly Cas too.

Because here they are now, in Cas’ bed, Castiel leaning into Dean, a knee between the V of his legs where they grind together. Dean is all but humping Cas’ hip while Castiel runs a hand down his thigh and tugs on his hair with the other. Their lips are inseparable. 

It’s hot, fucking scorching, and Dean has waited _so long_ for this and he can’t believe it’s finally going to happen.

To egg Cas on Dean slips a hand down Castiel’s underwear to get a handful of ass, pulls the boxers down his thighs, and he changes his position a little, so they’re dick-to-dick, aligned as they grind. Dean barely has time to moan out loud at the new sensations before Castiel is off him, kneeling above him and looking at him with wide eyes.

Cas bites his lip, decidedly not saying what he wants to say.

Dean gets as far as “What’s-“ before Cas is off Dean, off the bed and out of the bedroom, leaving Dean in the thin covers. How’s that for rejection? The guy didn’t even say where he was going.

Dean should go out there, should find out what he did to mess it up this time. But he can’t. He stays where he is, feeling numb and heartbroken at the same time. Cas clearly doesn’t want him as much as he’s let on. As much as Dean wants Cas. Dean briefly wonders how much of it was real.

Ten minutes pass with Dean feeling sorry for himself before he gets his shit together. Cas was the one that just left without explanation in the middle of… well... important business. He’s the one who’s not talking, and who is confusing and, frankly, who owes Dean some fucking carefully chosen words.

Dean’s not angry. But he deserves an explanation. He wraps the sheet around him to go find one.

He leaves the bedroom in favor of the living room and finds Cas on the first try. He’s sitting in the windowsill, the large window cracked and making Cas’ hair flow around the nape of his neck. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers. Dean’s boxers, actually, that he must have snatched from the floor amidst his fleeing.

They make eye contact and Castiel looks sorry and then he looks away, so Dean makes his way over to him to sit across from him in the wide windowsill. 

They sit across from each other in silence for a while, Dean staring at Cas, Cas staring out the window.

When he finally meets Dean’s eye, Dean exclaims, “What the hell happened, man?”

Castiel hesitates, picks at the window-clasp. He’s again not meeting Dean’s eye when he mutters, “I’m ace.”

Dean barely hears it and he certainly doesn’t get it. He squints confusedly at Cas, who’s looking down, “Uh, okay. Yeah, you’re pretty great.”

Castiel looks up at Dean, send him an exasperated look, “Ace, Dean. I’m asexual.”

Dean twists his head, making sure he just heard that correctly. He knows the term, has heard it before. But never in a million years had he expected _this_.

“ _Asexual?!_ ”

Castiel nods, the severity of this admission clear in his eyes.

Dean leans back against the wall, rubs his lips with his fingers without looking at Cas.

“Definitely didn’t see that one coming,” he says, just to say something, the silence too oppressing.

“No, I know,” Castiel says faintly.

Dean looks up at Cas, “But you do porn?” He doesn’t understand how those two can work together.

“Yeah, I… It’s not… Like, it doesn’t mean anything to me,” Castiel tries to explain. Dean doesn’t get it but the look on Cas’ face tells him that he doesn’t either. Dean decides it doesn’t have to make sense.

“Huh…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

There’s some silence that Castiel breaks, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to. I mean, as a rule I always do, when I… become close with someone.”

“So why didn’t you?” Dean asks, and hopes to god Cas doesn’t think he’s mad at him.

Castiel looks down. He shivers a little in the breeze coming in through the window so Dean scoots closer and pulls the cover around Cas’ shoulders too. His blue eyes shine in the moonlight when he looks back up at Dean, now sitting almost nose-to-nose.

“I meant to. On a multitude of occasions, I was planning on doing it. But I always found that I couldn’t. In the past, when I’ve told people, they’ve tended to leave. I didn’t want you to do that. I understand how keeping it from you might not work in my favor either. I’m very sorry, Dean.”

Dean reaches out for Cas. He has to when he looks so small. He runs a hand from his elbow up to his bicep and caresses his cheekbone with the other. He wants to say he understands but he’d be lying.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he says quietly.

Castiel smiles tentatively at him and leans into the touches.

“I’m a little confused, yes, but I’m not going anywhere,” Dean admits. 

Cas nods, “I understand. I don’t always understand it myself.”

Dean hesitates but decides to ask, “I don’t know if this is offensive but I don’t mean it to be. How does porn and being asexual work together?”

Castiel shrugs, “I had to make money, and it had to be a lot. My parents cut me off right in time for my college acceptance letter.”

“Wow,” Dean mumbles but otherwise keeps quiet to let Castiel continue.

“I’m not averse to sex per se. And I’m not saying that you and I will never have sex. And it’s not like I won’t enjoy it either, it just doesn’t come naturally to me. I don’t know how to explain it,” Castiel says, his fingers closing around Dean’s forearms softly in search for more contact.

“Right,” Dean mulls, “So what happened just now, tonight?” He has to ask.

Castiel shrugs and looks down embarrassed, which is the last thing Dean wants Cas to be, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about how I hadn’t told you. For so long, I hadn’t told you. I just felt guilty.”

Dean frowns but doesn’t get a chance to reply.

“I’m not ready for that step yet, with you. I hate to sound like a ‘tease’ or to make this into too big of a deal, but I just…” He trails off, seeming to have trouble wording what he wants to say.

Dean squeezes his bicep, “It’s okay, Cas. You don’t have to explain. I’m glad you finally told me.”

“I hope you still want to stay the night?” Castiel asks, peeking up at Dean through his lashes.

Dean smiles softly at Cas and pulls him closer, so they’re side to side, their backs to the window. “I ain’t going anywhere.”


	11. Chapter 11

Dean is sitting in between Bobby and Cas for Sam’s graduation. Sam got valedictorian, which to Dean means he won Nerd of the Year. He’s almost bursting with pride, of course. Dean’s own graduation isn’t for another two days and Bobby, Jo and Ellen are all staying in town for it.

Dean is over the moon, really, he is, but he hasn’t told either Bobby or Ellen that he likes boys. That he likes one boy in particular, whom they were introduced to about half an hour ago and who keeps trying to hold Dean’s hand but Bobby is sitting _right there_ and Dean is _not ready_.

You don’t tell someone who’s paying off the worst of your debt that you’re gay! Or bi, not that he’d ever venture into that whole thing with Bobby. Life has taught him that much. John has.

A few months ago, when things were bad, Bobby came through with enough financial support that Dean didn’t have to quit school (and that he and Sam didn’t have to live on the street either). Like Bobby has always come through with the support, be it financial or emotional, that Dean would never admit to asking for, either directly or by getting into fights at school and smoking in the lavatories instead of going to sophomore English.

Dean owes Bobby too much to disappoint him.

Bobby and Ellen got into town this morning, barely on speaking terms because they can’t be in a confined space together for more than an hour before harmless banter turns into bickering turns into full on fighting. Of course they took the same car. Of course they got married three years ago. They’re stupid and Dean loves them.

Jo got there the night before and Dean is grateful because that means she could get the boyfriend-teasing out of her system before Bobby and Ellen had to bear witness to that crap. He never did tell her that they can’t know but he thinks she gets it. She got it back in high school when it was Viktor.

Sam gives a beautiful speech and Dean doesn’t shed a fucking tear, okay? He doesn’t! He lets Cas take his hand for about thirty seconds before he panics again.

They go to a joint graduation reception for Sam and two of his most valued study partners and friends, and there’s enough beer involved that Dean suggests that he and Cas sneak off to kiss. He doesn’t think anyone notices and they’re only gone for half an hour or so anyway.

They return in time for the barbecue that’s meant to feed drunk BAs and relatives. When Bobby catches Dean’s eyes Dean instantly becomes aware that his lips are kiss-swollen and his hair is all messed up, and that Cas is right behind him, fingers still tangled with Dean’s. Dean drops them like they burned him but Castiel barely notices as he’s already drawn into conversation with Jo and Sam about summer plans and shots of jäger.

Dean avoids Bobby for the rest of the evening, and he avoids Cas too. He avoids pretty much anyone he has a close relationship with because he’s a coward, and instead spends his brother’s college graduation small-talking with somebody else’s distant relatives.

When it gets late enough that the bugs come out and the sun starts setting, people are drunk enough to start splitting from the party. Dean is designated driver, along with Ellen because they came in two cars. Ellen finds Dean for the first time in two and a half hours.

“Dean, there you are! I’ve barely seen ya all evening,” Ellen says as she pushes her way past two drunken college graduates.

Dean has the decency to blush, “Sorry,” he mumbles, not having anything else to add.

Ellen doesn’t seem to mind, “Your family is pretty drunk. It’s about time we take them home,” she tells him.

“Right,” Dean agrees. He’s heard Bobby’s drunken laughter a couple of times over the last hour and he’s pretty sure he caught Cas tipping over a chair earlier. Sam has already cried twice.

“I’m thinking I take Jo, Bobby and Sam home in my car. Your _friend_ seems to need a ride too. Is he spending the night at your apartment too?” Ellen asks, face sly as she busts Dean in a way that Dean can’t even respond to. He just knows he’s outed.

His face flames and his grateful it’s dark out, “No, uh, I’ll just take him home.”

“Mhmm,” Ellen says with no further response like she didn’t just out him, “And will you be returning or can Jo take your bed?”

Dean’s heart is thumping heavily in his chest and there’s a lump of unspoken panic in his throat. He barely registers his own voice as he says, “Just let Jo take it. You and Bobby can take the pull-out couch.”

Ellen looks like she wants to say _thought so_ but instead she goes with, “Alright son. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dean mumbles some sort of goodbye, voice sounding far away to his own ears, and Ellen grabs his shoulder and catches his eyes, “We love you, kid, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean swallows, “I do.”

Ellen gives him a smile and a quick hug before she takes off to haul the drunken family into her car.

He sees Castiel through a throng of people, talking to someone. His skin in flushed and he’s laughing at whatever the girl he’s talking to is saying and the lump in Dean’s throat disappears. He thinks he really loves this guy and he just got Ellen’s blessing so there’s just one to go. 

He walks up to Cas and slips his arm around his waist. His T-shirt is damp with sweat because it’s been a hot day and he’s drunk and surrounded by a lot of people. His dark hair curls against his forehead and he smiles broadly up at Dean, grabbing him around the waist right back.

“This is Dean!” he tells the girl he was talking to, “He’s my boyfriend.”

The girl lifts a dark and arched eyebrow, “Handsome.”

Dean smiles awkwardly and mumbles a ‘nice to meet ya’ before he steers Castiel towards the exit, “Ready to go home?”

“Mmh,” Castiel mumbles distractedly while waving goodbye to a couple of familiar faces. They make it to the next block where Dean had to park Baby before Castiel suddenly stops, making Dean bump into his back.

“Ughf, Cas what the hell,” Dean mumbles while Castiel turns around.

“I didn’t say goodbye to Sam!”

Dean rolls his eyes, tired from being around people and from being stressed out about Bobby, and opens the door for Cas, who gets in without protest.

“You’ll see him tomorrow. He invited everyone to brunch at that café he and Eileen never shut up about,” Dean says before making his way to the other side of the car and getting in.

Castiel doesn’t reply for a little while, looking at his hands in his lap. After a few minutes he looks up at Dean who’s waiting for a light to turn green.

“Are Bobby and Ellen going as well?” he asks.

Dean looks briefly at Cas but then the light turns yellow, “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“And you still want me there?” he asks quietly, mostly talking to his hands. 

A lump instantly forms in Dean’s throat at the question. He fucked up. He turns down the stereo before resting his hand on Cas’ knee. Castiel doesn’t put his hand on top of Dean’s like he’s supposed to. He really fucked up.

“Of course I want you there,” Dean says but it doesn’t come out as anything much higher than a whisper so he clears his throat awkwardly.

Castiel sighs and Dean steals a glance at him. “You were ashamed of me today.”

Dean brakes and the car behind him honks so Dean pulls over to give Cas his full attention, “No!” he turns in his seat to face Cas, “I wasn’t ashamed of you! I’d never be ashamed of you, Cas.”

Castiel is still only looking at his hands, “I don’t know if it’s because of the porn or because we aren’t having sex. You didn’t even introduce me.” He says it like he’s talking to himself, contemplating what he did wrong. Dean wants to bang his head against the steering wheel. 

“Cas, please don’t,” he reaches out and grabs one of Cas’ hands and Cas finally meets his eyes, “Please don’t think this is something that’s wrong with _you_. It’s me, okay?” 

Castiel frowns in confusion and what looks like mistrust so Dean squeezes his hand tight.

“Please, babe, trust me, it’s not you. I- I’ve never told Bobby and Ellen, okay? That I’m… That I like guys too or whatever. They’re southern, you know, and my dad didn’t exactly take it well when he found out about it.” Dean looks down at their joined hands. He doesn’t know what to do because of course he wants the world to know that Cas is his but he can’t fucking do this to Bobby. He’s already too much of a fuck-up.

“You don’t think they would approve of you?” Castiel asks, tipping his head to the side with the question.

Dean shrugs and looks out the windshield, “I don’t know.”

Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand, “I’ll be there tomorrow.” 

Dean gives a half smile and puts the car in drive, “Let’s get home.”

They get home and go straight to bed, both out like lights, wrapped up in each other.

 

\---

 

Everyone is already there when Dean and Castiel arrive at the café the next day. They’re sitting out on the patio since the weather is nice, glasses of juice and mugs of coffee dotting the table.

“Hey,” Dean greets with a smile and pulls a chair out for Cas.

“’Morning,” Bobby says gruffly, trucker cap pulled down to shield his hungover eyes.

“Did you order yet?” Dean asks and sits down next to Cas and Eileen on his other side.

“Only drinks,” she tells him.

Dean nods and turns to look after a waitress. He’s starving.

“It was a lovely party yesterday, Sam,” Castiel says.

Sam groans but with a grin, “I barely remember it.” He picks up an enormous mug of coffee.

Dean turns to smirk at him, “Goddamn yuppie lawyer.”

“Not yet,” Sam grins.

“Oh right, when’s your interview?” Ellen asks.

Sam swallows a sip of coffee, “Next week. Tuesday.”

“Arh, you’re a shoe-in!” Bobby waves.

Sam rolls his eyes and Castiel asks, “Dean, when’s your follow-up interview?”

Dean tries to send him a look but he’s too slow. The initial interview was a few weeks ago and Dean had a pretty good feeling about it. But everyone who’d been invited for an interview were good, and while Dean was good at what he did, part of him would always be a high school dropout with authority problems. He sometimes feels like people could tell just from looking at him.

Besides he hadn’t told anyone about that interview, not even Sam, because Sam was top of his class and had a law school interview coming up and Dean didn’t want to take away from that.

But that was shot to hell now.

Sam turns to him, hair flapping as he twists, “What interview?”

“Uh,” Dean starts, “It’s just this lab… Like a research thing?”

“Dean, that’s great!” Jo says.

“’m not hired yet,” Dean shrugs.

Cas caresses Dean’s arm reassuringly, “You will be,” he smiles.

Dean smiles lamely back.

Bobby finally joins in, “Who are you anyway?”

Castiel just looks dumbfounded at the attention and sudden shift of topic.

“You a friend of Sam or Dean?” Bobby goes on.

“Uhm…”

Dean takes over, “He’s uh… He’s mine.”

“Huh,” Bobby says and then understands and sits up a little straighter, “Huh! Oh. Good for you.”

A waitress finally comes and they all order.

\---

It becomes time for Dean’s graduation much sooner than he was prepared for and Dean is fucking nervous. He keeps pacing the living room floor and Sam eventually groans out loud from his spot on his couch.

“Goddamn it, Dean! Just sit down!”

“I can’t, fuck!” Dean exclaims.

Sam sits up straighter to actually catch his eye, “Why is it so hard for you to accept accomplishments?”

Dean frowns, “It’s not. I’m just… It’s overwhelming.”

“Maybe we should just take off? We’d be a little early, but I think it beats sitting around here,” Jo suggests and they file into two cars, Jo and Cas with Dean.

When they park on campus with a car between them, Castiel grabs Dean’s hand once they’ve exited the car. Probably because of the too loud Metallica and incessant finger drumming on the steering wheel.

Jo, Sam, Bobby and Ellen all gather together to wait for them.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Castiel says softly, caressing Dean’s knuckles with a thumb, “You already passed.”

“I know,” Dean mumbles.

“And I love you,” Castiel whispers, cupping Dean’s cheek in one hand.

Dean smiles, “I know that. And I love you too.” he finds it hard to meet Cas eyes and to avoid blushing.

Castiel kisses him softly and quickly and then they turn to join Dean’s family who all turn too fast to pretend they weren’t watching.

The graduation goes well of course and they all celebrate with beer and friends, and Dean allows himself one evening of being stress-free because he’s fucking done and he’ll worry about that job interview tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that, when he's not hungover anymore.

 

The not-blood family leaves the next day with a lot of hugs for people so emotionally constipated, and Bobby pulls Dean close to tell him “I’m proud of you, son. Even if your old man can’t see it, I hope you know that we can.” And that’s the most genuine Dean has ever heard him be.

-

The interview comes around and Dean aces it. He gets the call half an hour after the interview, when he’s barely even made it back Cas’ apartment. They celebrate with takeout and a snuggled up movie marathon.

Things go pretty well for Dean after that. Sam gets into law school, Castiel gets a local summer internship, Benny and Charlie accepts that Dean can’t get drunk during weekdays without too much begging because he has a real job now. The only obstacle all summer is in late August, when Sam asks Dean if he still lives in their apartment or if Sam can rent the other room out and they have a fight that lasts a whole week. (Which makes Dean realize that he didn’t miss one thing from his apartment the whole time since his toothbrush and 80% of his clothes were already at Cas’. 80% of his belongings, really. In conclusion: Sam was right.). 

He moves in with Castiel officially and Castiel moves his cam-room (which was his bedroom) to a studio downtown so Dean doesn’t become a sex-cam backdrop by accident.

They don’t get a lot of summer vacation but Dean gets four days off in October to tag along with Cas for his porn convention in Hawaii. And even though Dean had said it wasn’t a big deal, it had kind of felt like they’d consummated their relationship when they’d jerked each other off in a sun chair by the beach at one in the morning.

And even though Dean spends the rest of the year surrounded by grad students and working over time five times a week, he doesn't think he's ever been more content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I don't wanna complain about my own fic but this was supposed to be a rom-com. That clearly didn't happen lol but oh well


End file.
